


Marconi Plays the Mamba

by tcs1121



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 04:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19243636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcs1121/pseuds/tcs1121
Summary: Summary:Jensen is a local Florida weatherman who is known for his handsome face and winning smiles. Although he gave up the dream of becoming a real meteorologist, he is extremely passionate about the weather. And, eventually, Jared.Jared is a brilliant computer programmer whose company, PMC (Padalecki, Morgan, Collins) gets contracted by Jensen's TV studio to revamp their software. Jared speaks fluent Mexican Restaurant Menu Spanish and has strong affection for weather. And, eventually, Jensen.It's all fun and games until deadly weather threatens their town. Then, it's up to them to save Coconut Bay.~~*~~*~~





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.
> 
> ~~*~~*~~Special Thanks to~~*~~*~~
> 
> My longtime friend and beta, [kee](https://kee.livejournal.com/), Who is so very special. 
> 
> To my artist [2blueshoes](https://2blueshoes.livejournal.com/) who captured the essence of Jensen's smiles :-)  
> The art master post is [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234633) Please take a look and send your love. <3
> 
> To Wendy. Our tireless moderator for the [SPN J2 Big Bang](https://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com) year after year after year. Thank you, Wendy !
> 
> ~~*~~*~~
> 
>  
> 
> **A/N 1:** If you don't understand Chad, it's because he speaks in Jimmy Buffett lyrics  
>  **A/N 2:** All restaurants named are real. I didn't make up any of them.  
>  **A/N 3:** The actual lyrics for the title are: Marconi Plays the _Mambo_ but I never heard it like that. It's always been Marconi Plays the _Mamba_ to me. (You see where these characters get their geekiness from).
> 
> There are cameos and mentions of several additional familiar characters.

**Title:** Marconi Plays the Mamba  
**Author:**  
**Artist:**  
**Pairing and Characters:** Jensen/Jared, Felicia Day, Alaina Huffman, DJ Qualls, Chad Michael Murry, Misha Collins, Osric Chau, Katie Cassady, Genevieve Cortese,  
**Cameos and mentions:** Jim Beaver, Sandy McCoy, Mark Pellegrino, Mark Sheppard, Richard Speight, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Brock Kelley, Alona Tal Rob Benedict, Bryan Norcross, Jim Cantore  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** J2 AU, romantic comedy, some hurt/comfort  
**Word Count:** ~34,500  
**Warnings:** No Warnings outside of the sexual activities associated with the rating.

 **Disclaimer:** Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.

~~*~~*~~Special Thanks to~~*~~*~~

My longtime friend and beta [kee](https://kee.livejournal.com/) who is so very special . To my artist [2blueshoes](https://2blueshoes.livejournal.com/) who captured the essence of Jensen's smiles :-)  
The art master post is [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234633) Please take a look and send your love. <3

To Wendy, our tireless moderator for the [SPN J2 Big Bang](https://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com) year after year after year. Thank you, Wendy !

~~*~~*~~

 

 **A/N 1:** If you don't understand Chad, it's because he speaks in Jimmy Buffett lyrics  
**A/N 2:** All restaurants named are real. I didn't make up any of them.

There are cameos and mentions of many other familiar characters.

 

 **Summary:**  
Jensen is a local Florida weatherman who is known for his handsome face and winning smiles. Although he gave up the dream of becoming a real meteorologist, he is extremely passionate about the weather. And, eventually, Jared.  
Jared is a brilliant computer programmer whose company, PMC (Padalecki, Morgan, Collins) gets contracted by Jensen's TV studio to revamp their software. Jared speaks fluent Mexican Restaurant Menu Spanish and has strong affection for weather. And, eventually, Jensen.

It's all fun and games until deadly weather threatens their town. Then, it's up to them to save Coconut Bay.  
~~*~~*~~

~~*~~*~~

**Marconi Plays the Mamba**

~~*~~*~~

~~*~~*~~

"To sum it up, today, like every day, is JAPDAB. Just Another Perfect Day At the Bay. Stay safe, Coconut Bay, and don't forget to turn on your headlights when you turn on your windshield wipers. It's the law." Jensen flashed and held his signature Number One. That was the double row, blinding white smile looking dead into the camera with a hint of dimple on the left.

Felicia held out three fingers, then, two, one, "And we're out."

Jensen blew out a breath and opened his mouth wide to work out the strain of smiling for the last several minutes. 

"Just another perfect forecast, Jensen." 

"Bite me." Jensen sat and loosened his tie. He was tired but couldn't go home to stay until he finished his stint after the 9:00 PM news, 11:00 PM on Fridays. It sounded like a cushy job, delivering the weather forecast during the morning, afternoon, evening and nightly—twice on Friday nightly—newscasts. A whopping thirty-eight minutes, more or less, of air time for which, even he had to admit, he was stupidly overpaid, but it was an all-day job. More or less.

His weathercasts were also streamed, audio only, for those who preferred to just listen, but they missed out on his dental magic. 

The very first time Jensen stood in front of the station manager and unveiled his pearly whites, they turned into gold for this local television station, which was the heart of this affluent little community. That was twelve years ago. 

"Bite me. That's funny." Felicia laughed, shaking her head. "The boss wants to see you in her office after you finish your jaw exercises."

Jensen snapped his mouth shut and eyed her warily. "What does she want?"

"That's for her to know and for you to find out." She checked her watch. "I'm outta here in ten. Give me a buzz if she tells you something I need to know."

"Who's on for tonight?"

"Quall's on."

"Okay. That's cool." Jensen stretched his neck to the left. "I hope he doesn't do that thing with his tongue." Jensen unconsciously rolled his tongue into a tube.

"Hey, be nice to DJ, Jensen. His dog got out again."

"Again?" Jensen made a test smile with only the tips of his top teeth showing. 

"Be. Nice." Felicia shook her finger menacingly.

"You know me. I'm always nice." 

She continued shaking her finger.

"Oh, all right. I'll be nice." He smiled, genuinely this time, until her finger stopped wagging. 

"You’d better." She grabbed her clipboard and hung up her headphones.

"See you tomorrow, Red."

"See you tomorrow, Weatherman."

Alaina Huffman was WBB's Station Manager, Coconut Bay's local television station. WBB was the NBC affiliate in this little corner of the great state of Florida, and she ruled it with a highly manicured iron fist, using as few words as possible.

Jensen knocked on her door and waited. When she first came on the scene eight years ago, he'd made the rookie mistake of barging into her office like he owned the station. After all, he was here first. He lifted this little station out of obscurity by his upbeat forecasts and striking good looks _years_ before the owners brought her in.

His ass was handed back to him so hard his backside still stung. 

"Ackles, come in. Sit down."

"Good afternoon, Ms. Huffman." Jensen sat, gingerly. "You're looking lovely, as always." He gave her his Number Four—a closed-lip, friendly smile with a dash of flirt.

"Put that away." She aimed her Sharpie at his face. "Changes are happening around here. New people, fresh blood, out with the old, in with the new."

Jensen was stunned. That was the most words he'd ever heard her say in one breath.

"Come again?"

"Revamping the system." She scribbled on her note pad with the Sharpie. "Major overhaul."

"C-come again?" 

Huffman stilled her hand. "Jobs reassigned. New staff coming in."

"Ms. Huffman, am I being fired?" 

Alaina began making big, black X's on the pad in front of her.

Jensen heartbeat sped up. If he were fired, then _he_ wouldn't have to make the decision to quit. He was well paid, locally famous, spoiled at work, and could date anyone he aimed his Number Twelve at. The one with full dimples. He would be a fool to quit a job like this. But, if he were _fired_ , the decision to quit a lucrative but dead-end job would be taken out of his hands.

"Of course you're not fired. You're our weatherman."

"Then who's getting fired?"

"Go back to work." She looked up from the blackened paper. "And be nice to DJ."

Unable, or unwilling to make a snappy comeback, Jensen stood and backed his way out of her office.

"I wonder who’s on the chopping block?" Jensen murmured. "She can't mean _everybody_."

"Everybody what?"

"Oh, hi DJ. Hey, you're looking good. Have you been working out?"

Tears flooded DJ's eyes. "If you call searching yards, garages, alleyways and drainage ditches, working out, then, yeah, I've been really, really working out." He wiped his eyes furiously. 

"Scout got out again, huh?"

"Don't you judge him. Don't you dare judge him. He's smart, but he feels the call of the wild and he's unable to resist. Scout needs more freedom than I can give him in my townhouse's backyard." He wiped his nose on his sleeve. "He needs land. Lots of land. Under starry skis above. I can't fence him in."

"I'm sure he'll come home safe and sound. Miniature poodles like the water and you know how much he loves lounging in the kiddie pool you bought for him."

"Yeah," DJ said, wetly. "I set it up for him before I came to work. Maybe he'll come home tonight. He enjoys swimming under the stars." He sniffed and took in a deep breath. "I really wish I could move and buy a few acres where it’s not so hot." 

"Sometimes wishes do come true, DJ." Jensen said, solemnly. "Sometimes they do."

"You're a good guy, Jensen. Too bad you don't have a dog. If you did, we could have play dates."

"Yes. That's too bad. I'm gonna go." Jensen pointed towards his dressing room suite. Yes, two little rooms made a suite.

"Okie dokie, I'll get everything set up for you to look good, tonight. Like I always do. JAPNOT, Jensen." He saluted military style.

"JAPNOT, DJ," Jensen answered. Then they smiled and said in unison, "Just Another Perfect Night On the Town." 

~~*~~*~~

It wasn't exactly that they got fired. It was that the IT team got banished. Only Edna, a copywriter who worked from home and nobody ever saw anyway, got the actual axe. 

The WBB IT team was big and bloated. Big Mark Pellegrino ran the place with a not-quite-iron-more-like-steel-wool fist. From coordinating the news streams from the affiliates, to breakaway reporting, assembling the business and sports information, as well as compiling weather stats, the WBB IT team managed, micromanaged, and micro-micromanaged all data coming into the studio. Big Mark, his evil twin partner, Little Mark Sheppard, and Dick Speight formed the Unholy Triumvirate. Their IT minions did not suffer fools lightly. Or news anchors, production assistants, producers, or testy weather reporters. If they didn't like you, they'd hex your equipment, curse your teleprompter, and smite your headset. That was, until Alaina forced them on hiatus. Jensen guessed that one of the Marks and Dick smitings must have gotten out of hand. 

As far as the weather streams went, Jensen didn't need the station's internet technology for that. His well-kept secret was that he had converted much of the second floor of his house into his own personal weather center. Before every broadcast, he ran his own metrics from the data he compiled from his second bedroom and used those on the air. What Jensen didn't tell anyone, what he never, ever let anyone know, was that he was a certified, bona-fide, honest-to-god, no question about it, weather geek. As a little kid, growing up in Florida, weather became his passion, spurred on by the somewhat common tropical storm warnings, hurricane watches, thunder storms, lightning strikes, and the public service tornado warnings he watched on television between cartoons. 

_. Go into the basement or lowest floor of your house_  
. _Go to an interior room_  
. _Stay away from windows_  
. _Get out of mobile homes to a sturdier structure_  
. _If you're on the road get out of your car and lie down flat in a ditch, or someplace lower than the ground…not under an overpass._

The—get out of your car and go face down into a ditch—always sent a tingle through Jensen's bones.

But it was in 1992, while watching meteorologist, Bryan Norcross broadcast two days straight from Miami, as Hurricane Andrew hit Homestead, Florida, that Jensen knew he wanted to be a meteorologist. Andrew was a devastating Category 5 storm that Jensen had been tracking on his home Storm Tracker kit, and he got it right. He had correctly forecasted where and when landfall would take place—something many professionals couldn't do until shortly before it happened. 

"I want to be just like Bryan Norcross when I grow up," thirteen year-old Jensen had said to the image of Kirby on his Game Boy.

And so he did. 

Except, he didn’t. Because instead of getting his advanced degree in Meteorology and Atmospheric Science, and becoming a hurricane specialist for the The Weather Channel, he became WBB's JAPWAS. 

Just Another Perfect Weatherman At the Station.

~~*~~*~~

Sandy was dusting powder on the tip of Jensen’s nose, ten minutes before his upcoming segment when she said, "Did you see the new internet techs setting up? Cute, cute boys, Jensen, and a couple of cute girls, too."

Sandy was Jensen’s friend going on five years and knew he straddled the fence, sexuality speaking. She always looked on both sides of it for him. She was a good friend.

"I don’t know, Sandy. I’m kind of missing Big Mark’s evil scowl when blue screens pop up on the monitors. Not so sure I miss Little Mark’s sarcastic laugh, though." 

Jensen adopted Little Mark’s London’s accent saying, "You’re all a bunch of spoiled, stupid twits. So, be good little code monkeys and don’t touch anything, because I can destroy all you've ever created with the snap of my fingers."

"I know! That sounds just like him!" Sandy laughed, snapping her fingers. "He was always doing that." She snapped them three times more. 

Jensen liked Sandy. 

"Ten minutes, Jensen." Felicia poked her head into the makeup station. "Later on tonight, before your broadcast, IT wants to meet with you."

"What do they want to meet _me_ for?" Jensen breathed into his hands, smelling the dregs of the spearminty life saver he'd been sucking on. 

"They’re meeting everybody. One of the new IT guys is a WBB hero now. You’ll want to meet and thank him." Felicia touched the screen of her iPad as she spoke.

"Thank him for what?" Jensen checked his teeth in the mirror.

"He found Scout and took him home to DJ. Seems that Scout was swimming in the guy’s pool several miles away. Fortunately, DJ had posters of Scout hung on every tree, telephone pole, and street sign, within a ten-mile radius."

"That’s, that’s kinda weird. But nice, I guess."

"Why do you always see the weird in everything, Jensen?" Felicia huffed through her nose. "You’re on in five." She touched the screen again and flounced away.

"I don’t, do I Sandy?"

"You do. You see the weird, creepy, corny, and evil scowls and sarcastic laughs in everything."

Maybe he didn’t like Sandy as much as he thought.

  


"There you go, Coconut Bay. What can I say but JAPDIP? Just Another Perfect Day In Paradise. And remember, on these beautiful, sunny Coconut days, save your skin, ban the tan and use lots of sunscreen." Jensen cocked his head to the right and aimed his Number Six into the camera lens.

"And we’re out." Felicia took off her headset. "Good job at making boring weather sound exciting."

"Bite me, Red."

"Not now." Felicia gave Jensen a sheet of paper. "Here are the names of the new IT staff, for later."

"Why do I need to know their names, again?" Jensen took the paper and looked it up and down. 

"So you know their names. Duh."

"I never had to talk to Mark or Mark or Dick."

"You knew their names, though. Hey, you never know when you may need them. I heard that they were going to be here all night, so go see them before your late-night spot. What do you have to lose? You might as well talk to them."

Jensen sighed heavily.

"Go." She pointed to the exit. "And be nice."

"All right. I will." Jensen tucked the paper into his back pocket. "Why are you always telling me to be nice?"

"Because you can be nice when you’re nice." She said, leaving the set.

"I’m always nice," he said to himself while finger styling his hair. "When I'm nice."

~~*~~*~~

_**It is never too late to be what you might have been.** _

**No time for losers, 'cause we are the champions. Of the world.**

_I like mine with lettuce and tomato, Heinz 57 and French-fried potatoes._

~~*~~*~~

These were yellow sticky notes on the wall of the first cubicle—the new IT team's makeshift front office. Jensen read them twice and still wasn't sure what they meant.

He stepped inside the faux wall and noticed that most of the IT crew wore red and white tee shirts with red letters on the back that read:

 ** _The PMC Solution: Rock-Solid IT Concepts You Can Roll With_**

. 

A diminutive young woman sitting at a computer console was all in black except for a red PMC logo button affixed to her black, gauzy cape.

DJ was speaking animatedly to a tall guy in the back corner. 

Jensen knocked carefully on the wall where one of the PMC guys was standing.

"Hello?"

A slender, young man wearing a cap that had a large, red parrot sewn on the top and the word "Margaritaville" on it, turned and squinted at Jensen. "You’re the weatherman, right?" 

"Yes, that’s me. Jensen Ackles. Pleased to meet you."

Jensen pulled the paper from his back pocket and searched furiously through the names.

"I’m Chad. Nice to meet you, too. I’m a huge fan of your work. I mean, all the sunshine you give us and all." He held out his right hand. "The weather is here, wish you were beautiful."

Jensen shook Chad’s hand. "I don’t actually cause the sunshine you know."

"I know, it’s a little joke," Chad smiled. "Nothing remains quite the same. With all of our running and all of our cunning," Chad shrugged, "if we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane."

"I guess so." Jensen slowly backed out of the cubicle. 

"Jensen! Jensen Ackles!"

Jensen turned. "Hi, DJ." 

DJ ran up to him dragging the tall guy by the hem of this red and white tee. Up close, this tall guy was very easy on the eyes and the smile he flashed Jensen, with full dimples, made Jensen pull out his own Number Three. The one with his top teeth showing and a slight crinkle of the laugh lines around his eyes. 

"Who’s your friend?" 

"Hey, I’m Jared. Nice to meet you. Apparently, you’re Jensen Ackles." 

"Yes," DJ said, breathlessly. "Yes, he is, and he knows Scout, too."

"Oh," Jensen smiled for-real. "So, you’re the hero who found Scout?"

"Well, I wouldn't say hero. Scout was skinny-dipping in my pool around midnight. Luckily, I’d seen his picture and knew who to call." Jared lightly punched DJ’s shoulder.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. He’s kinda my only family. Except for Jensen and the news team." DJ smiled. "I gotta go set up, but maybe we can all go out for a drink sometime?"

"Maybe," Jared said.

"Maybe," Jensen said.

DJ turned tail, leaving the IT guy and the weatherman in his wake.

"So," Jensen scratched the back of his neck. "Welcome to WBB. Coconut Bay’s home for news, sports, and weather. Are you here to smooth out the glitches between them?" Jensen glanced at the five other PMC group members. "And why do your shirts say PMC? Shouldn’t you be wearing the WBB shirts with coconuts emblazoned around your names?"

Jared laughed, shaking his beanie-clad head. "WBB hired PMC to come in and upgrade the entire software system. We’ll be turning the department back over to your old staff when the upgrades are done. It’ll take some time, but we only temporary."

Jensen silently scrunched up the paper in his back pocket. "Well, it will be nice to have you, for as long as you're here." 

"You are very nice to say that." Jared adjusted his beanie. "Let me introduce you to our motley crew."

_See, Felicia. He said I am very nice._

"I already met Chad," Jensen offered.

"Oh, so you know he’s always looking for his lost shaker of salt." Jared got a fond gleam in his eye. "We grew up together and have been together through thick and thin. That includes his two failed marriages. Sorry, TMI."

Jared led Jensen to the main work space. There were two women and two men. One of the men wore a serious frown and had seriously blue eyes. The other was young and Asian and jumping up and down. The two women were gorgeous. The leggy blonde was chewing gum while keying information into her iPad, and the petite brunette Goth, with black eyeliner, black lips, black nails, a pierced nose and pierced eyebrows, was staring at the computer screen, touching it occasionally and writing things down. Her black lace dress hung past her knees where her spike-heeled riding boots began. And, of course, the gauzy, black cape. 

"Hey, guys. Take a minute to meet Jensen Ackles. He’s the meteorologist for the station." He turned to Jensen. "We'll have a whole upgraded feeder system dedicated to weather alone. I think you’ll be pleased when we’re done." 

"I’m not a, I’m not a real, uh," Jensen stuttered.

"Hello, Jensen." Blue eyed, unsmiling man held out his hand. "I’m Misha Collins. The "C" in PMC Solutions. It will be our pleasure to bring you all into the 21st century. I can’t believe how outdated some of this hardware is." He turned and pulled out his own iPad and began clicking.

"Okay, thank you?" Jensen said to Misha’s back.

"You’ll warm up to him," Jared said. "He’s really good at what he does. He could save your ass someday." He winked.

That wink sent a shiny little tingle of happy up Jensen's spine. He followed Jared to meet the others. 

"Guys, this is Jensen Ackles. He reports the weather. Jensen, this is Katie C," Jared indicated the blonde. 

"Hey, Jensen." She continued looking down at her iPad, snapping her gum, but raised her hand for Jensen to shake.

"Pleased to meet you, Katie C."

She nodded to her iPad.

The young, Asian man bounded over and held out both hands. "Hi! I’m Osric! I love weather!" Osric shook both of Jensen’s hands with both of his. "I hope we can get together and do a geek-out weather session. I would love that!" 

"Osric," Jared said softly. "Behave."

"Yes, boss. Indoor voice. Got it." Osric smiled brightly and jumped back over to the corner.

"And this is Genevieve." 

Genevieve stood, coming barely to Jared’s chest. "Very pleased to meet you, Jensen." She hovered over to Jensen and held out her ring adorned, tattooed right hand. 

She had a firm, confident, patchouli-scented hand shake. "I hope we can bring you all up to speed and get you rocking and rolling in no time."

Jared wore a wide and knowing smile. He leaned into Jensen’s ear and whispered, "Wait for it."

"Because," she spoke softly, "at PMC, rocking and rolling is what we do. Observe." She touched a button on the remote she was carrying. Immediately the surround sound speakers blasted [We Built This City](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1b8AhIsSYQ), by Starship.

Genevieve grabbed her air guitar, pushed her cape over her left shoulder and mouthed the lyrics with Starship. "We built this city—we built this city on rock and roll, built this city—we built this city on rock and roooollll!"

When Genevieve got knee deep in the hoopla, Jared led Jensen out of the area and into a quieter hallway.

"So, that’s the crew." He lifted his beanie, smoothed his hair back, and pulled it back down. "Told you we were motley." 

"I’m not a meteorologist," Jensen admitted. "I wish I were but I’m not. I do know a lot about weather and weather patterns, though." 

"I like weather a lot. That’s why I put myself in charge of the weather feed revamping." Jared stepped back and stared. "Wait a minute. What do you mean you’re not a meteorologist? You sure sounded like one when you were delivering the forecast just now. You’re obviously very knowledgeable."

"I," Jensen hesitated, "I was on track for starting a degree, and maybe even an advanced degree, in Applied Atmospheric Sciences at East Carolina University in Greenville, North Carolina. It was a dream of mine to be a meteorologist and follow in Bryan Norcross’s shoes."

"Who?"

"He's the hurricane specialist at The Weather Channel."

"Oh, that's right. Him and Jim Cantore." Jared raised his hands excitedly. "[ Thundersnow, baby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdRWGMyeSYY)!"

"Yeah," Jensen scratched the floor with the toe of his shoe, "I needed tuition money, so I got a job here doing the nighttime weather. It went so well that I got the full-day weather slot and made a name for myself. You know, big fish, small pond?"

Jared nodded.

"I guess I got lazy and stayed." He looked up at Jared. "Sorry, TMI."

Jared shrugged. "It ain’t over ‘til it’s over. I’ll bet you a nickel that East Carolina University still stands in Greenville. All you gotta do is go for it."

"I know it does. I, sorta, keep checking. But that’s all about me. What about you?"

"Wait a minute, you said you know a lot about weather patterns. Does that mean you study the tides and winds?"

"I do, I check weather feeds every day from home." Jensen cleared his throat. "At least twice a day. My house isn't too far from here."

Jared sounded impressed. "I guess you’re the one I want if there come up a bad cloud."

Jensen lit up at the use of the term "come up a bad cloud."

"Or when it gets cold as a frosted frog." He countered. "My grandmother was from Texas and used those weather expressions all the time.

"Or, hotter than Satan’s housecat." Jared’s eyes twinkled. "I am definitely keeping all the weather IT updates for myself. Your Texas grandmother sounds a lot like my Tennessee grandmother. For all I know we may have the same grandmother."

"I hope not," Jensen said, as a pink blush crept up his neck.

"Yeah, I doubt it." Jared turned his glittering eyes to Jensen. "Hey, if you want, you and I can collaborate and prioritize the feeds. Do you ever have need to broadcast _national_ weather conditions?"

"Sometimes, if there’s a weather system threatening …"

"Ackles!"

Alaina Huffman rapped her knuckles against the cubical frame. "Find Qualls. Get suited up and pretty. Tick tock." She seemed to suddenly notice Jared. A slow, seductive smile spread across her deep red lips. "Hi, I’m Alaina." 

"Um, hi." Jared slid his eyes over to Jensen and back to his erstwhile boss.

"Talk later?" She brushed her red hair away from her eyes. "Talk business?"

"Of course, Miss Huffman." Jared looked friendly. 

"Yes," she purred. "Later." She sashayed away.

"That’s new," Jensen mused aloud. "She's not usually here this late."

"She’s a little scary." Jared pitched his voice low. "She said to me earlier, ‘IT sexy.’" He gave a full-body shudder.

Jensen laughed. "Hey, I gotta go, but how about we get together some time, when we both have time, and talk priority weather. I’d love to add more national weather to the weathercast."

"Jensen Ackles!"

Jensen gritted his teeth. "Coming, DJ!" He turned to Jared and shrugged. "Gotta go."

"I’d love to," Jared said.

"You would?"

"I would."

"Good!" Jensen backed away. "Great!" 

"Yeah, great." 

Jensen swore that Jared aimed his own Number Two right back at him.

"Even though there’s a good chance we'll be getting some showers passing through tonight, here at the Bay it’s JAPNIR. Just Another Perfect Night In the Rain. Stay safe, Coconut Bay, and don’t forget, when you’re lifting something heavy, keep it close to your body and bend your knees. That way, you won't strain your back."

Tonight, Jensen unsheathed his Number Five. Eyebrows up, chin lifted and a pouty, flirty opened lip smile. 

"And we’re out. Another great segment, Jensen." DJ pulled off his headset. "Oh, remember Jared from the other night? The one who found Scout? He asked me to ask you to meet him in the computer room if you had time. Boy, he’s really busy doing whatever he’s doing. I wonder if he has dogs."

Jensen shook his shoulders, opened his mouth wide and scrunched his eyes shut. "Sure, did he say what he wanted?"

"Nope." DJ wrote on a yellow pad and then pulled a plug out of a console.

Summarily dismissed, Jensen made his way to the Bullpen. That's where the IT team amassed to go about their electronic business. He was looking forward to seeing Jared's smile again. Maybe he could take notes.

~~*~~*~~

**_If I take 30 steps linearly, I get to 30. If I take 30 steps exponentially, I get to a billion._ **

**We all float down here!**

_It's only half-past twelve but I don't care. It's five o'clock somewhere._

~~*~~*~~

Jensen thought he might be getting what these notes meant, but, no.

"Hello?" Jensen said, knocking on the cubicle frame. 

Misha looked up from his tablet. "Hello, Jensen."

"Uh, hi. DJ said that Jared wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Misha said, looking down. "Osric."

"The weatherman’s here! The weatherman’s here!" Osric bounded over. "Jared loves the weather. I told you that I do, too. C’mon, he’s over _here._ "

Osric grabbed the cuff of Jensen’s dress shirt and led him through a labyrinth of improvised computer stations, consoles, temporary desks, temporary walls, and rolling stools. 

"Does everybody work this late every night?" Jensen checked his watch and found that it was 10:08 PM. 

"Nope," Osric said. "Here he is. Here’s Jared. Hey, Jared, the weatherman’s here."

"Thanks, O." Jared sat at a desk with one desktop and two laptops fired up. He wore reading glasses that made him look unexpectedly sexy. 

"We’re almost done here for tonight. Why don’t you go and see if you can get the remote feeds to upload to your platform at home. Then go to bed." 

"Not tired, boss, but okay." Osric gave a thumbs-up and hurried away.

Jared stood and arched his back before placing his glasses on the desk. "Hey, Jensen. Thanks for making time for me tonight."

Jensen shrugged, "Ah, you know. Weather work is never done. You look beat."

"Your old IT Marks and Dick were pure evil. They’ve got it locked down with traps and schemes, wards and hexes making this IT landscape a living hell. They must have been jealous of their position in the etherworld." He sighed, tiredly. "But I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to open the portals to free flowing internet news, weather, business and sports. After all, that’s what WBB hired us to do."

Jensen folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. "Are you the P or the M, because blue eyes out there is the C."

"What?" 

"That’s the second time he’s called you ‘boss,’ so you must be one of the initials associated with this team."

All the fatigue left as Jared beamed. "I’m the P."

"Care to educate an old, tired broadcast weatherman, Mr. P?" 

"Well, old man," Jared flashed a grin. "I told you the other night that I write code and have a Tennesee grandma who talked about the weather being so dry that the trees were bribing the dogs."

Jensen playfully smacked Jared upside his beanie-wearing head. "Let’s start again. Hi, I’m Jensen Ackles. Last name Ackles. And you’re Jared, last name P?" He held out a hand.

Jared clasped Jensen’s hand and shook saying, "Pleased to meet’cha Jensen Ackles. I’m Jared Padalecki, one of the founders of Padalecki, Morgan and Collins. Home of rock-solid IT you can roll with. And everyone should look as good as you when they’re old and tired." He winked again and Jensen’s ears pinked up.

"That’s a terrible slogan, you know."

"I know, but Misha’s son came up with it, and nobody could think of anything better than, PMC: We Usually Do Good Information Technology."

"Yeah, that's not good."

"Plus, Genevieve gave her rock-solid vote of approval." Jared smiled.

Jared smiled, and Jensen took a breath. "Look, don’t punch me or anything, or if you do, don’t aim for my face, but would you like to go out for a cup of coffee or a beer or both with me some time?"

Jared never lost his smile. "Beer coffee is my favorite. Coffee beer is my second favorite. I’d love to, but right now can I have a few minutes of your expertise to look at something weather-related for me?"

Jensen tried not to look disappointed. "Of course," he said through the smiling teeth of his Number Eight.

Jared tilted his head down and looked up from under his lashes. "You don’t have to use that on me. I already said I’d love to go out with you. In fact, I’m going to hold you to that offer of beer and/or coffee this week-end."

"Yeah?" Jensen folded up his Number Eight and grinned on his own.

"Definitely," Jared swayed up close and said, "Maybe beer on Saturday and coffee on Sunday."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Especially if you talk weather to me."

"You’re on. What do you have to show me?"

Jared sat, pulled up a stool for Jensen and put his glasses back on. "I was going through the weather data streams and saw that a shallow tropical wave has developed east of Saint Lucia. Isn’t that where Hurricane Harvey was born?"

"Yes, it was." Jensen looked at the map Jared had on the monitor. There were wind patterns, air and water temperatures, and the topography displayed. 

"Harvey started out as a tropical wave and kept on churning. The storm intensified after crossing the Lesser Antilles where it was named and then upgraded to a tropical storm."

Jensen sat on the stool next to Jared and commandeered an optical mouse. He clicked and zoomed in on a pressure area in the atmosphere, scrolled over to the prevailing winds, and checked water temperatures.

Jensen spoke as he maneuvered the curser. "Harvey moved through the Winward Islands, making landfall on Barbados and even a second landfall on Saint Vincent."

Jensen moved the map angle and extrapolated a couple of vectors. "A couple of days later, when Harvey got to the Caribbean Sea, the storm began to weaken," he looked up, "due to wind shear."

Jensen readjusted the track on the screen. "Harvey degenerated back into a tropical wave north of Colombia and almost petered out before regenerating," Jensen reached over and clicked a different view on Jared’s screen, "…uh, regenerating over the Bay of Campeche, Mexico where the storm rapidly intensified into a hurricane later that day, finally making landfall as a Cat 4, with sustained winds of 130 miles per hour, smashing into San José Island and then Holiday Beach, both in Texas." 

Jensen shook his head, but his eyes never left the computer screen. "That storm dumped more than twenty-seven _trillion_ gallons of rain on Texas, making Harvey the wettest Atlantic hurricane ever measured. Some parts of Houston received more than fifty inches of rainfall — so much that the National Weather Service had to update the colors it uses on its weather charts to properly account for it. I read somewhere that the Earth's crust actually dipped under the weight of all that water."

Jensen sat back after a few more clicks. He took a breath. "But that doesn’t look like what’s happening with this depression." He pointed to the map. "On the track this one’s taking, there’s not enough energy, the ocean's surface temperatures are too low and the wind gradients in the mesosphere are too strong. It’ll blow the tops off any storm formation before it can organize into a hurricane. Good catch, though. I was looking at this area," he cursored over Jamaica, "a couple of hours ago and found some tropical low-pressure systems around the Greater Antilles, but I missed your tropical wave. Really good catch, Jared."

Jensen continued clicking around the maps. "You know, hurricanes and tornadoes are the better known storms that can cause huge property damage and human casualty, but there are other storm systems that are made up of families of downburst clusters that exhibit wide variations in wind speeds due to embedded microbursts, downbursts, and downburst clusters with severe gust winds that can be as destructive as tornadoes…" Jensen trailed off of his geek weatherspeak and slammed his eyes shut. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, he scolded himself silently. You want to impress this guy, not lull him to sleep. Or worse yet, come off so nerdy the he doesn't even want to go out for coffee with you. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

When Jensen finally peeked over at Jared, Jared’s pupils were blown wide, his forehead was shiny with sweat and he was breathing is short, fast bursts. He coughed and turned away. "That was so hot, Jensen. You talking wind shear and microbursts was the hottest thing ever," he groaned. "I am such a geek. I'm the geekiest geek whoever geeked. Shoot me now."

"You really like weather," Jensen stated.

"Who does that? Who gets turned on by downburst clusters?" Jared shook his head, sadly. "Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me." 

"Naw, ‘cause then you’d miss my talk on the chemical release measurements in the lower thermosphere, and never get to see my hodograph."

"Stop it, stop it. Now you’re just teasing me." Jared’s eyes were shining. "I really do like weather, and I would love to see your hodograph. What's a hodograph?"

Jensen shook his head in mock dismay. "And here, I thought you knew all about velocity diagrams."

"I don't, but I'd still like to see yours." Jared winked.

It was Pavlovian. Every time Jared winked, Jensen's ears got pink.

"That can be arranged." Jensen tried but couldn’t hold in a yawn. "Give me your phone and I’ll key in my number. When you call me back, I’ll add you to my contacts. Speaking of contacts." He rubbed his eyes.

Jared handed Jensen his phone. "I’ll call. Very soon. I really appreciated you saying I made a good catch. It felt good."

Jensen looked perplexed. "I don’t know why. I’m just the weatherman."

"You’re not just the weatherman. But that conversation is for another day. See you tomorrow?"

"You bet. I’ll be here as sure as the sun rises perfectly over Coconut Bay."

  


"That’s your late-night Friday forecast for Saturday and beyond. This weekend, as always, Brock Kelly will be calling the weather shots, making it Just Another Perfect Weekend With Brock. Stay safe, Coconut Bay, and remember to make sure you have fully charged fire extinguishers on every floor of your house." Today, Jensen dusted off his Number Eighteen. A full closed-lip smile with his eyes scrunched shut, adding a gentle nod of the head.

Number Eighteen never went over well. Probably because Jensen’s eyes were closed and couldn’t see it in the mirror to work on. Plus, his selfy skills sucked.

"And we’re out." DJ smiled, tore off his headset and put his clipboard down. "The weekend begins!" He did a little dance where he kicked his left foot up in the air. 

After he finished kicking, he asked, "Any plans for the weekend, Jense?"

Jensen ducked his head and said, "Maybe." He took off his tie and folded it over his arm. 

"Maybe?" DJ asked, following him to the door. "Maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Is it fun or weather related?"

"If I’m lucky, both." Jensen winked and went to his dressing suite. Yes, two small rooms _is_ a suite, goddammit.

He’d finished changing into his jeans and tee when he heard a soft knock at the door. 

"Hey, Katie. What’s up?" 

Katie stared at her phone, snapping her Doublemint and holding up a piece of paper. "Apparently we’re all twelve years old now."

Jensen took the paper, "What is this?"

"If I had to guess, I’d say it says, ‘Do you like me, yes or no?’ with a request to check the box next to _yes._ " 

He opened the note, smugly noticing that it was a request for his presence in the IT Bullpen. With a smiley face in Jared’s letter a. 

~~*~~*~~

Two voices, one slightly louder that the other, carried on an animated conversation. 

"Newsfeed, dude. It’s the heart and soul of the newsroom and their hardware is outdated, like -like-when they made new movies in old black and white with happy endings, where nobody fights outdated. It’s gonna cost way past our estimate if we’re gonna fix it. And we need to fix it to get our software to work. When the station hears this, they’ll freak. We are the people they couldn't figure out. We are the people our parents warned us about!"

"Chad, dude, chill. Don’t get your pencil-thin mustache in a bunch. I built contingencies into the quote, and besides if we need more, JD will get them to ante up. Get me a working estimate for what you need and Jeff will negotiate for it, he’s gutsy and salty." Jared lifted his eyes to Chad. "He’s the son of a son of a sailor." 

Chad sighed. "The sea’s in my veins, my tradition remains…"

Jared and Chad both recited the ending lyrics, "I’m just glad I don’t live in a trailer."

"Okay, I’ll work it up. I’ll get a preliminary dollar amount by noon tomorrow."

"Good," Jared said. "I’ll give Jeff a call and get him on deck, okay?"

"Okay, good. Hey, you want to go out for some Boat Drinks tonight?"

"No," Jared looked at Jensen. "I’m hoping to grab some beer or coffee with a new friend."

Chad eyed Jensen up and down with a smirk. "No problem. Alexa and I can always make music without you."

"Good, say hi to her for me." 

"Will do. Smell you later," Chad straightened his parrot hat and left. 

"Alexa?" Jensen asked.

"His new girlfriend." 

Jensen sat on the desktop. "What was that about?" He pointed to where Chad stood.

"Nothing we can’t fix. You just gotta know how to speak Chad’s language."

"Speak Chad's language?"

"Whatever works." Jared grinned and shrugged.

"So, who’s Jeff?"

Jared put a friendly arm around Jensen’s shoulders. "Jeff is the M."

"Oh," Jensen looked side to side.

"No, here’s not here. In fact, he doesn’t know code, software, or hardware. He barely knows how to use his smart phone, but he’s the best at getting business, keeping business and negotiating when business gets in the weeds. Chances are you’ll never see him here." Jared turned Jensen to face him. "Can I interest you in some refreshment?"

"You stole my line," Jensen grinned. "But I have one up on you. I have a dressing room suite with a variety of beverages made from barley, hops, yeast and something else."

"Water," Jared supplied. 

"Well, yes, I have water, too, but I thought you might want a beer."

"Barley, hops, yeast and water is beer. My brother and I used to make it in my parents’ kitchen. We thought we could brew IPAs cheaper than buying them. Nobody told us about the equipment, ingredients, sterilizing bottles, and time it took to cook it all together."

"I’m afraid you might be too interesting for me. Either that, or you’ve run out of things to tell me about yourself." Jensen said. "I guess we’ll have to get drunk on yeast water all night and see."

"That’s a plan, too. Gen, I’m heading out." Jared shouted over to Genevieve, who was wearing something similar to Kate Beckensale’s shiny, black Underworld outfit, with a spiked neck choker. And spiked bracelets. And black, fingerless gloves. With spikes. How she got the PMC logo pin to stick without ruining the fabric, he'll never know.

"Of course," she purred.

"Is there someone here all night?" Jensen asked, steering Jared toward his rooms.

"Coconut Bay never sleeps, Jensen. Late night news only happens late at night." Jared stared into Jensen’s uncomprehending eyes. "Yes. We have staff here working through the nights, at least for now. We’re geeks. We drink Red Bull. We don’t sleep. We thrive on it."

"Okay, well, here are my rooms at the station." Jensen opened the door wide. "Also, as I said I live a little more than a mile from here, but I didn’t want to be too forward by inviting you to my house."

"You are adorable." Jared said, running his hand up and down Jensen’s arm. "Let’s sit, drink, get to know each other and then," Jared put his hand up and whispered, "talk weather."

"You’re only interested in me for my weather acumen." He handed Jared a bottle of Killian’s Irish Red and an opener. "Just wait until I start using my weather vernacular," he batted his eyes. "You won’t be able to resist me."

"It's true," Jared agreed. "I do like your weather. And your acumen." He sat in the middle of the couch in the bigger of Jensen’s two small rooms and turned to the side. "Sit, tell me more about yourself."

Jensen smiled, opened his beer and sat cross legged facing Jared. "Well, I’m a Pisces. I love a rainy night, and I strive to have a different piece of valuable advice at the end of every broadcast." He tilted his beer up. "And you?"

"I’m a Cancer, enjoy long walks on the beach and even longer strings of code." He held up his bottle and they clinked. "And I can’t wait to get into your vernacular."

"Whew, I’m glad that’s over. First introductions are always so awkward."

"I know I should have done my homework and watched your weather reports before coming to work the first day, you know, to see how you relayed your information. But, to tell you truth, as long as I’ve lived here—going on five years—I’ve heard your name but never really watched. I have seen Brock, though." 

"He never gives advice," Jensen frowned, "but he does an okay job. Everybody here is competent and, except for the Marks and Dick, are friendly and professional. The head news anchors, Alona and Rob, are real pros and Big Jim is one of my favorite people in the world. _Big Jim’s Sports Spot with Big Jim_ runs right before me most nights, and he’s more like family than a co-worker. I’m way too comfortable here." 

"Is that why didn’t you go to Greenville?"

"Yeah. I let all this," he waved his arm expansively, "sidetrack me from my goal of being a hurricane specialist for The Weather Channel."

"You’re good on camera." Jared said, kindly. "Not to mention, way better looking than Bryan Norcross and Jim Cantore combined."

"You’re very kind to say that." Jensen drank again. "What about you? How did you get to be a weather-loving tech geek?"

"Remember my southern grandma?"

"I do."

"My grandparents’ farm in Tennessee was in the middle of Dixie Alley and was destroyed by a F3 tornado."

Jensen sat straight. "Holy shit, Jared, that’s awful."

"They’d gone into the storm shelter with the family and the family pets, right after they let the livestock out of the barns. That’s really all they had time to do since the storm came up fast."

"Yes," Jensen said. "You can’t leave them in the barns in case the barns get blown down."

"The family all survived, but the house and all the outbuildings were damaged or destroyed, and they could only round up half of their herds. They had cattle and goats and a large brood of hens. All but two hens died. It was devastating, both emotionally and financially." Jared paused. "They finally rebuilt, but it took a lot of sweat, tears, time and money."

"So, your parents told you that a tornado devastated your grandparent's farm, and that's how you became interested in weather?"

"Not exactly."

"No?"

"I was in the storm shelter hugging my dogs Buddy and Trey for dear life. I was seven years old."

"Holy shit."

"I know. My parents, grandfather and older brother were helping keep the bulkhead secure against the wind while my grandma covered me and my dogs with my granddad’s Army blanket. I can still hear it in my head. A runaway train barreling full-force towards us. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time, because I couldn't help but admire the pure force of nature."

"Why didn’t _you_ pursue meteorology?"

Jared shrugged. "I like code better. I do dabble in weather forecast and weather tracker algorithms for fun."

"You need a lot of information for accuracy."

"So true. That’s part of the fun. The more info the merrier." 

Jared drained his bottle and reached for another, but Jensen stopped him. 

"What?" Jared asked.

"Do you mean that? About more information being merrier?"

"Well, sure."

"Then I have something to show you. Something you’ll probably like, but it’s, well, it's upstairs in my house."

Jared sat back and smiled coyly. "Either you really do have something interesting to show me, or that’s the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard."

Jensen chuckled. "No, I’m sure that, without even trying, I could come up with a sorrier line than that. But I do have something to show you. Something I’ve never shown anyone before."

"Now _that’s_ a pick-up line I can work with." Jared stood.

Jensen shook his head. "God, I hope I haven’t oversold it."

Jared leaned in close. "I’m sure I’ll like it."

"Then come with me." Jensen put the remaining beer in the mini fridge and pulled Jared up by the wrist. To Jensen’s surprise, Jared twined their fingers together and swung their clasped hands in the air. 

"Lead on."

Jensen unlocked the door to his Mediterranean-style two story, three-bedroom, three bathroom Florida home. He put the coffee on and turned to Jared. "Nobody knows what I’m about to show you. Please tell me you can keep a secret."

Jared spoke seriously. "I can only _try_ to keep a secret, but I can promise not to kiss and tell."

"Okay, that'll have to do." Jensen smiled shyly. "I'd be embarrassed if the people I work with found out what a tremendous weather geek I am."

"I’m people," Jared said.

"Yes, but you’re also a tremendous tech geek. We’re kinda kindred spirits." Jensen handed Jared his coffee and then grinned suddenly. "I do like the not telling about the kissing, though."

Jared put the cup down and moved in closer, pealing the brim of his cap up. "Shall we try that part?"

"After you’ve seen the clear extent of my over-the-top weather obsession. Only then will you have the true picture of whom you are kissing."

"It’s really that bad?"

Jensen sighed. "It’s really that bad."

Jared straightened his beanie, stood tall and said, "Okay, I’m ready. Show me."

Jensen led Jared up the stairs. The door to his master was shut, but the other two large bedrooms were whirring with activity.

"What’s all this?" Jared’s eyes were wide with wonder and maybe a little something else.

"Because I live kind of close to the station, I go home a lot between my segments. As long as I'm in makeup and in front of the camera when I’m supposed to be, nobody cares where I am. I'm sure a lot of the guys think I'm playing video games or napping, but I'm not." 

Jensen took him into the bigger of the two bedrooms, and pulled up two chairs.

"Sit," Jensen instructed. "Behold."

He fired up three computers and the monitors glowed. Jensen took his mouse in hand, clicking and talking at the same time. "I have hotlines to the National Weather Service, NWS, and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, NOAA." He cursored over another screen, "I tap into the High Resolution Rapid Refresh, HRRR models, that keep a real-time watch on the skies."

Jensen woke up a forth monitor, "Over here is the Aviation Weather Center, AWC, and the National Centers for Environmental Prediction." He scrolled down. "Here, I access the North American Mesoscale Forecast System or NAM. I even hook into data from local and regional amateur weather watchers. Some of these amateur guys are phenomenal. Their accuracy rates for specific local weather events can outshine some of the big forecast geniuses. There’s a group of us who periodically go online to go over our forecasts for concrit." Jensen looked over at Jared. "Constructive criticism."

He focused on one screen at a time. "I study the North American Forecast, *click*, the Global Forecast, *click*, Nested Grid, *click*, Canadian, *click*, and European models *click click*, to make my own weather predictions, based on all weather feeds I pull in. I log and chart weather systems, wind patterns, oceanic temperatures, and ocean phenomena like Alberta Clippers, Diablo and Santa Ana winds, El Niño and turbulence systems all over the world, because oceans and atmosphere are closely related. I even track the lunar cycles to predict the effects of high tides." 

Jensen closed his eyes, not knowing what expression would be on Jared’s face when he opened them again. "I should probably stop now."

He knew he would eventually need to see, so he cautiously opened one eye. "So?"

During the course of Jensen’s harangue, Jared had removed his beanie and wiped his neck with it. For the first time, Jensen noticed the way Jared’s hair curled at the ends and shone silky smooth, reflecting his auburn highlights in the recessed lighting of his second bedroom. 

_Auburn highlights?_

"This is absolutely amazing, Jensen. No, no, this is really, really awesome! _You_ are awesome. This is a huge amount of information you’re pulling in from many sources and you're compiling it like a pro. Some of your sources are really discrete, like # SFLWX and # CBWX how cool is _that_. When do you have time to go through all this data? Do you have a tablet or laptops at work? I could help you access all this information from WBB if you do. I can interface all your feeds to your tablet and/or laptop—even your _phone_ if you wanted me to. Or I could set up direct feeds from these sites to your…"

Jensen leaped into Jared’s lap, grabbed Jared’s face in his hands and kissed the words right out of his mouth. Jared returned the gesture with his own unbridled enthusiasm

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining." He pulled Jensen back to him.

Jensen panted. "So, you’re not put off by all this?" He dove in for another taste. "Or even the fact that the # CBWX is my own anonymous hashtag and weather feed from Coconut Bay?"

"So not put off." Jared kissed up Jensen’s neck murmuring, "That was so hot, so _hot_. In fact, if I were Jim Cantore, I’d want to fuck you right now with the data from NOAA running in the background."

"Jesus, Jared, that _is_ hot." Jensen refrained from palming his crotch. 

They kissed until they both needed to come up for air. Jensen shifted back to sit on his desk chair and looked up. Jared’s hair was a mess, his lips were bitten raw and his eyes were shining. Jensen was sure he looked the same.

"There’s a word for us," Jensen said.

"I know, God help us," Jared said shaking his head, smiling. 

"We are such nerds."

  


"With all the sunshine in today’s forecast, it makes it a Coconut Bay kinda day. Be good to each other! This is Brock Kelly for Brock’s Weekend Weather in the Sun."

"See," Jensen said, clicking the remote to pause the screen. "No instructions or snappy acronyms. 

"Or helpful weather advice," Jared carded Jensen’s hair with his fingers.

"Or a Number Two killer smile with a single row of upper teeth and both dimples showing." Jensen shook his head.

"Plus," Jared kissed Jensen’s temple softly, "he’s not as cute as you."

Jensen leaned into Jared’s touch. "He does remind me of me when I was young."

Jared leaned back to look into Jensen’s eyes. "Meh, maybe a little." He snuggled under Jensen’s arm. "Do you TiVo all the weather forecasts?"

"A lot of them, yeah. I compare the local forecasts to one another and then compare my forecasts to their forecasts and then to the major weather centers." Jensen felt his cheeks blushing. "I like to micro forecast."

"No blushing or feeling embarrassed or self-conscious about your passions. It’s a new rule. Besides I think it’s neat that you know all that."

"Yeah?" Jensen said, hopefully.

"Yeah, and sexy as hell, but you have to remember that when I get _my_ geek on." This time it was Jared’s turn to blush. "Sometimes I get in the zone and don’t resurface for days."

Jensen patted Jared’s knee. "I promise to remember." He yawned with jaw cracking abandon. "I’m out of steam for the evening, but I don’t want it to be over. It’s been a long time since I felt like that." He stifled another yawn. "I said that out loud, didn’t I?"

"Yes, and it was charming. I tell you what? We’ll meet tomorrow for brunch. I’ll spring for coffee and Bloody Marys." Jared unfolded himself from the couch and stood. "How does 11:30 sound?" 

"Sounds like brunch," Jensen smiled.

Jared stretched high and wide. His shirt untucked and his midriff became exposed to the recessed lighting. Jensen tugged him down by his shirttail. "How ‘bout one for the road?"

"I’m all about the road." Jared plunked back on the couch next to Jensen and kissed him breathless. He stood again and planted a light kiss to Jensen’s hair.

"I gotta go. I really enjoyed being here tonight. I’m glad you showed me your secret weather obsession, because I may rock code, but you rock and roll weather better than anyone I’ve ever met and it’s dead sexy." Jared took a step away but couldn’t seem to make it any farther. 

"Thank you," Jensen said, genuinely. "Thanks for tonight."

"You’re welcome. I also think _you’re_ hella sexy and I’m looking forward to getting to know you better."

Jensen hauled himself to his feet. "You will. Starting tomorrow." He took Jared by the hand and walked him to the front door. "I think—I think you’re sexy, too."

Jared opened the door and smiled. "Then we’ll be rocking and rolling together." He leaned in one last time, for one last kiss. "See you tomorrow."

Jensen shut the door and leaned his back up against it. He closed his eyes and took a big breath in through his nose before heading to his bedroom. 

"Rocking and rolling." Jensen hummed to himself. "Rock an’ rolling." He twanged before reaching for his air guitar. "Rock and roll!" strum "Built this city…" strum slap "… we built this city on rock and roooll."

  


~~*~~*~~


	2. Part Two

Jensen met Jared on Saturday morning at Pita Pan right next to Wok This Way. Jared had his head buried in the menu, but something about his posture was off. 

"Hey, you," Jensen said, pulling out a chair at the sidewalk bistro table.

Jared saw Jensen and shined like the sun on a Perfect Coconut Bay Saturday at Brunch. "Hey yourself."

"What’s up? Nothing good on the menu?" Jensen opened his Pita Pan menu to the Lost Coffee page. 

"No, it all looks good, but I have something to tell you."

"Is it bad?" He looked up.

"I don’t know—I don’t know if I can do it."

"Do what?" Jensen attempted casual, but sounded pitiful.

Jared shrugged. 

Jensen semi-stood and leaned in close to Jared whispering, "Did I do something wrong last night?"

"Sort of."

Jensen’s heart sank, and as he was deciding whether his Number Nine or Fifteen would be more reassuring, Jared continued, earnestly, "I said I wanted to get to _know_ you. You know, get to know you _better_."

"I know. I know you did. I want to get to know you better, too. Is that going to be a problem?" Jensen asked. "Because I can try to fix whatever I did bad." He resisted the urge to finger comb his hair and check his breath.

"No. Shit, you don’t understand." Jared blinked, obviously looking for the right words. "I want to be a gentleman and date you properly. You know, do it right like get to know your favorite colors, favorite foods, hopes and dreams."

"But?"

"But all I want to do is kiss you senseless every time I see you, and it’s all I can do right now not to throw you over this little table and blanket you with _me_." He turned away. 

Jensen sat with a thunk, his cheeks burning so hard he was afraid the menu would burst into flames. Not to mention that the sudden hard pressure on the fly of his jeans made him gasp for air.

"Uh…" Jensen choked.

"Does that make me a bad person, Jensen?" Jared sounded like he really wanted to know. "Does it?"

"I don’t, I don’t, I can't…"

"Hi boys, what can I start you with today?"

"Coffee," they said in unison.

"Black," said Jensen

"Lotsa cream and sugar," said Jared.

"And ice water," they said.

"Sure thing. I’ll be right back for your orders."

Jensen frowned. "Cream and sugar?"

"Yeah, lots. Is _that_ going to be a problem?"

Jensen thought a moment. "My favorite color is blue, well, teal, and my favorite food is pulled pork with my mom’s tangy Carolina Barbecue Sauce—that’s the barbecue sauce made with vinegar—and my hopes and dreams depend on the weight capacity of this bistro table."

Jared laughed, relieved. "I really don’t want to come on too strong, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night."

"I had some trouble sleeping myself. I was rocking and rolling all night thinking about, you know, everything. So, I think we need to come up with a plan to move forward," he brought his voice down to a whisper, "sexually," and then added, "and still get to know one another properly because, seriously, we both totally need sleep."

"Totally," Jared said, and extended his hand.

Jensen didn’t have to pull anything out of his arsenal as his smile was 100% genuine. Not accustomed to PDAs, he shyly slid his hand into Jared’s and realized it was as easy as that. Especially after looking into Jared’s smiling eyes. 

Jensen leaned in. "You know," he whispered.

"What?" Jared moved in close enough to share the same breath. "What do I know?"

"Coffee, black." The waitress slid the cup in front of Jensen. "And this one with lots of cream and sugar." She sloshed the cup in front of Jared. 

"So, what can I do you for?" The smiling waitress pulled out a pen. 

"So, uh," Jensen got his thoughts together. "I’ll have the _Think Happy Thoughts_ omelet with sausage and some _You’ll Get Hooked_ hash browns with green peppers." He handed the menu back. 

"I understand the ham and cheese quiches here are so light they could fly," Jared said. "I’ll have one of those and the _Pixie Dust_ Danish with extra pixie dust for dipping."

"Sure thing."

Jensen sideeyed Jared. "You’ve been here before."

"Of course. I wanted to make sure I took you somewhere that had a magical cuisine. Because, because, you, uh, make me kinda believe in magic." Jared blushed furiously.

"Wow, that should have made me snark something snarky at you, but instead I thought it was sweet." Jensen shook his head. "What is wrong with me?"

"It’s because we’re stone cold sober." Jared chuckled. "I think we should order some _I Won’t Grow Up_ Mimosas after the Pixie Danish so we can say we had an excuse for all the sweet things we’re about to say to each other."

Jensen smiled in agreement. "I think I’ll need several _Crocodile’s Clock_ screwdrivers, because I have a feeling that we’re going to be talking beautiful weather together."

  


Jensen and Jared weaved hand in hand towards Jensen’s house several long blocks away.

"We shouldn’t a gotten the, the, _A Pirate’s Life For Me_ Mojitos," Jensen slurred.

"An’ we definitely lee, shouldn’t have gotten three each," Jared hiccupped, Cer'inly not 'fter the screwdrivers and the _I Won't Grow Up_ Mimo…Mimos…Mimosh."

"Mimosh," Jensen nodded. "No Mimosh next time." Except that _next time_ sounded like nesht ime.

"I like the sound of that," Jared said with a lopsided grin. "Next time." Which also sounded like nesht ime.

They got to Jensen’s house and plopped on the sofa. 

"That brunch was great. It was really, really great." Jensen realized he was drooling and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "I really, really thought it was great—yeah. Brunch."

"Me, too. I did, too. We should always, and then, we should— _always_." Jared took a deep breath and grinned. "Yeah. I like food."

"I like you," Jensen said, scooting up close. "I like you even when I’m not drunk."

Jared’s eyes went soft. "That’s the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."

"You're cute, and nice and have pretty auburn highlights." Jensen sniffed Jared's hair and began planting small, drooling kisses on his head.

"And you have such great teeth." Jared leaned his head in closer to give Jensen more drooling space. 

To show Jared that he was listening, Jensen went to nip him on the shoulder, but ended up biting his own tongue. 

"You are very handsome and sexy and I like you very much. We should have sex," Jared said, sincerely. "I think we should try and sober up so I can have sex with you." 

Jensen stopped whatever he was doing to Jared's shoulder and faced him. "Why do we have to be sober? I can do drunk sex. I'm really good at it. Let me show you."

Jensen stood to a wobbly stand and reached for his belt buckle.

"No!" Jared grabbed Jensen's wrists. "No, you can't! Not now!"

"Oh my God, _why?_ " Jensen's eyes watered suddenly. "What did I do? Did I do it again?"

"Do what again?"

"That bad thing I did the other night that made you, that made you…" Jensen wiped his eyes. "I don't remember!"

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that," Jared took Jensen's hands in his. "I can't have sex with you _because_ you're drunk."

"What?"

"You can't _consent_ if you're _drunk_."

"Yes, I can. I really, really can." Jensen held three fingers up in the Boy Scout salute. "I conshent."

"I'm being a gentleman! I'm trying to be a gentleman, here." Jared was getting upset. "Wait a minute. I'm drunk so even _I_ can't consent, and, dammit, I want to fuck you so bad." He began to sob.

"Stop," Jensen lowered his voice and tried not to slur his words. "Now, Jared. I am not drunk enough to not, I mean, I can, or cannot or anything. So, let's undress, okay?"

"Coffee."

"Naked?"

"No, lotsa cream and sugar, remember?"

Jensen huffed. "Okay, genty McGentleman, I'll compromise. Let's sober up enough to have consensual quasi-drunken sex, okay?"

"Is that even a thing?" Jared asked.

"It is if I say it is because this is my house and I can or cannot anything I want, all right?

Jared shot up off the couch. "You're on!" 

After the second pot of extremely strong coffee was consumed, the pair was less drunk but buzzing like a hornet's nest and quivering with all the caffeine flowing through their veins.

"I don't think I'm too drunk anymore, but I don't think I can stay still long enough to have long, drawn out sex with you, and I want our first time to be good." Jared tapped his toes, tapped his heels, flipped his hair, and reached for the sugar.

"Yup, yup, I hear you, yup." Jensen's hands shook as he rocked back and forth gulping his tepid coffee. "I want it to be good for us, too. I hear you. Yup. But can we, like, do anything, like, almost but not quite sex or something? Something sexlike? You're nice and I like you." 

"Thank you," Jared grinned, shyly, "I like you, too." His knees jerked up and down, but his smile was soft and genuine.

Jensen stopped rocking long enough to say, "We're a mess."

"We are."

"But you know something, Jared? In a small, very small, very tiny way, I appreciate your thoughtfulness about not coercing me into having drunken intercourse with you even though I was, and still am, fully, fully on board with that idea. It was sweet of you, though. I think."

"I'm better at everything when I'm not drunk. Except singing. I sing great when I'm drunk." Jared's jittery muscle movements had calmed. "Tell you what? Let's put on a Star Trek original series marathon and make out on the couch until we're both not strung out and see what happens, okay?"

"Would it bother you to know that I can recite the entire dialogue from _This Side of Paradise_ from memory?" Jensen asked. "Jill Ireland was pretty hot."

Jared stood, put his hands behind his back à la Spock and said, " I have little to say about it, captain. Except that—for the first time in my life—I was happy."

Jensen was awestruck. "You know, I could probably love you if you gave me a chance." Awestruck and still a little drunk.

" _A_ chance?" Jared reached for Jensen's hand to stand. "I'll give you a million." 

Jared's first kiss was tentative and slightly shaky. Jensen took control and pressed his tongue between Jared's parted lips and tasted the sweet coffee he'd been drinking. They dragged each other to the couch, and dropped down, Jensen straddling Jared's lap. 

Jared deepened the kiss, licking Jensen's lips, teeth and sucking on his tongue. Jensen moaned softly and opened wide because Jared was an awesome kisser. 

Jared manhandled Jensen onto his back and leaned into him kissing, biting and rubbing his knuckles over Jensen's left nipple. Jensen didn't realize he was into being manhandled. 

Cool. 

"Fuck, Jared," Jensen breathed. "Can I at least take my shirt off?"

Jared shook his head and mouthed Jensen's right nipple over the cotton cloth covering it. 

"God, Jay. You are so much more than pretty auburn highlights."

Jared snickered and whispered, "You ain't seen nothin' yet," before lowering his head to Jensen's fly. "And neither have I, but I'm sobering up nicely so I might be about to." 

"Yeah, yeah, go for it. I'm sober. So very sober enough." 

Jensen reached for his zipper pull, Jared licked his lips, and a little, tinny version of _Margaritaville_ , started playing from Jared's back pocket.

"No, Chad, not now," Jared rejected the call and began unbuttoning Jensen's pants. 

Jensen got his jeans down to his knees and Jared was tugging on the waistband of Jensen's briefs when Margaritaville started up again, and again, and, yet again.

"Shit, shit, shit." Jared squeezed his eyes shut. 

"No, no, no," Jensen chanted. 

Jared opened his phone and Jensen cried a little inside.

"What Chad, _what_?" Jared yelled.

Jared suddenly stood and Jensen watched all the color leach out of Jared's face.

"What, Chad?" He listened. "What?" After several minutes, he swallowed and blinked. "Okay. Okay, I will. Okay." 

Jared gently closed his phone. 

"What's wrong?"

Jared stated simply, "The system's freezing, automatically rebooting, and displaying the blue screen of death over and over, and they can't get it to reload. This is not good."

"No?"

"I have to go." Jared turned away, then said, "It's a good thing we had so much coffee. I may be up for the next forty-eight hours."

"I'll drive you. I'm not drunk anymore." Jensen reached for his keys.

"No, I'll walk. I'm going to the station, not my house. I parked my car there and walked to brunch. The walk back will let me think things through. I'm," Jared cleared his throat. "I'm _really_ sorry about this. I hope you'll let me make it up to you."

Jared smiled weakly, but it was obvious that Jared had already checked out, and his brain was now working on the problem. 

"No worries." Jensen shot his Number Four at him, since it was the only one he could think of at the moment. 

Jensen sighed and Jared left.

  


Jensen texted, called and tried not to appear desperate when he showed up at the IT Bullpen a week later. Jared had been on radio silence since whatever went down, went down.

Unfortunately, the signs stuck to the IT cubicle weren't reassuring: 

~~*~~*~~

**_I'd Turn Back If I Were You._**

**Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here**

_I don't know where I'ma gonna go when the volcano blow._

~~*~~*~~  
Jensen fully understood this message and turned to leave, moving out of the way when Osric exited the doorway. He was uncharacteristically quiescent. 

"Hey, Osric. What's up?"

"Hi, Weatherman. Jared's not here."

Osric's eyes were tired and there was a slump to his step. 

"What happened? Where's Jared? Are you okay?"

"Massive system failure. Not getting any better. Jared's working offsite. I'm not okay. He's not okay. Nobody's okay."

"If the system's down, how have we been getting our news streams? Alona and Rob have stayed on the air all week." Jensen followed Osric.

"Internet and cable TV. Chad and Katie take turns compiling the local and national news for your broadcast team. Big Jim gets his own sports updates from somewhere." He bit his lip, looking like he was keeping it from quivering. "I'm mortified. We're better than this. _We are_ rock solid IT, dammit." He frantically smoothed the logo on his shirt.

"How did it happen?" Jensen held the exit door open.

"We don't know. Could be the ancient servers, the primordial routers, antiquated hardware or hidden trip wires in the code."

"Trip wires?"

"Don't ask."

"Do you think," Jensen cleared his throat, "do you think Jared would mind if I dropped by his house? Where is his house?"

Osric shot a sad look Jensen's way. "Jared's in the zone. He won't be resurfacing for a while. Genevieve will make sure he's fed and hydrated, but I suggest you stay away until his brain is back online and he reemerges to the land of the living."

Jensen dropped his head.

"Hey, weatherman, it's nothing personal," he said encouragingly. "He likes you."

"He does?" And yes, Katie was right. They were twelve. "I mean, that's good. I'm glad. And I'm glad he's relatively okay."

"I'll let him know you came by, the next time he speaks." Osric unlocked his 24-speed hybrid mountain/street bike, donned his Iron Man bike helmet, saluted Jensen and pedaled away.

  


"Even though Coconut Bay has the best weather around, we must never, ever take our sunshine for granted, because one day, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, our sun could be plucked from our lives, leaving us all in a cold, damp shadow." Jensen sucked in a deep breath. "Remember, take your vitamins daily with the right doses of B6 and B12 for a healthy immune system." Jensen had the peace of mind to dust off his Number Seventeen. A soft, gentle smile looking dead into the camera lens.

"…and we're out. Holy Christ, Jensen, who kicked your puppy? You didn't Just Another Perfect anything. How come?"

"Shove it, Red. I’m not in the mood."

"Obviously." Felicia pulled her headphones to circle her neck and made a note on the clipboard. 

"Oh, here." She handed him a small envelope.

"What is this?"

"One of the IT guys gave it to me to give to you."

Jensen tore the paper open to find an address scrawled in black ink. 

"Felicia?"

"Hmm?"

"Have DJ rerun this noon segment for the evening forecasts. The weather won't change between then and now."

  


Jensen drove up to a beautiful, waterfront Florida cracker style home. It was a sprawling, white, two-story house with a covered wrap-around porch, white metal roof and clerestory walls with high windows to let in air and sunlight. An infinity pool facing the water gave the impression that the swimming pool was an extension of the blue-green Gulf of Mexico.

A beat-up green Jeep Wrangler sat in the driveway with a matte black Tesla Model 3 parked behind. 

He used the brass pineapple door knocker for three solid thumps, and within a minute, the big oaken door swung wide. 

Gone was Kate Beckensale's shiny Underworld garb. Today, Genevieve bore a strange resemblance to Morticia Addams. Not only the long, octopus-like fitted black gown, but her long, black hair, parted in the middle, pale face and deep red lips. 

"I'm glad you're here." She didn't look glad.

"Thanks, I think." 

"In there." She pointed a long, black-nailed finger down the hallway. Her voice was low and rough, either from disuse, or fatigue caused by cutting rose heads off of thorn bushes. 

She glided past Jensen, snagged her little black purse with the PMC logo pinned to it, and floated out the door. The hiss of a Tesla followed by music blasting "…Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio! Don't you remember…" 

Jensen made sure the door was locked and looked around. There was a wide central hallway ending at the kitchen, with rooms to either side. There was a staircase to the left and a sunroom to the right. He took a tentative step and called softly, "Jared? You home?"

A moan came from the second room on the right. 

The room looked to be Jared's den. The wide picture windows with transom windows above, gave a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico. Jared's reading glasses lay face down on the brilliant white custom-built computer desk. On that desk were two desktop computers, two laptops, and several external hard drives. Three monitors surrounded Jared—who was beating his head on the surface in front of him. 

Jensen rushed over, "Jared, hey, Jay, no, c'mon, stop, it's okay." He pulled Jared's beanie off and placed it where it would cushion Jared's banging head. "Jared, listen to me. It's Jensen. Everything's going to be okay."

Jared was a mess as he clutched blindly at Jensen's printed tee shirt that read: _**Get Your Head Out of the Cumulus** _  
He thought it was funny at the time. In fact, he still chuckled to himself every time he pulled it on.

Right now, though, things weren't funny. "What is it, Jay? What's wrong? Please don't hurt yourself." 

"Broken." Jared whispered. "It's all broken."

"What? Where?" Jensen ran his hands over Jared's head and shoulders. "Where is it broken?"

Jared stopped moaning and finally looked up. "Jensen?"

"Yes. Jensen. What's broken?" Jensen asked, anxiously. "Where are you hurt?"

"I'm—I'm not, the _program_ is. The program we built for your studio is not rocking and or rolling like it's supposed to." He tried banging his head against his beanie, but apparently found it unsatisfying because he started pulling his hair.

"Stop, Jared. Don't hurt yourself, nothing is worth that." Jensen took both Jared's hands in his and looked into his eyes. "Nothing is worth that. Besides, you can fix it. I know you can."

Jared pulled his hands out of Jensen's grasp. "What is wrong with me? Why can't I figure it out?" He took the heel of his hand and smacked his forehead twice.

"Come on Jared, don't do this. Please." He physically held Jared back from pummeling himself. "Nobody rocks code like you guys do. You're the best at this. Don't you remember? You PMC guys built this city on rocking and rolling code. Remember? You _built this city_ and you can fix it." 

Why did Genevieve have to play that song?

"You don't know that." Jared sagged where he sat. The fight was out of him. "You don't. All I know is that I can't fail at this, I _can't_." 

He finally looked up with reddened eyes. "Jensen, this is what we do, this is what I do for a living. With my _life_. What I do so well that I can live in a house by the water. What I do so well that all Jeff has to do is mention the PMC record for successful builds, and contracts flow our way. I cannot let this business down. I cannot let my team down. I cannot let you and your station down."

"That's why you and your team will figure it out. Pounding your head into mush will not accomplish anything. And it sure as hell won't repair the system or help promote PMCs reputation." Jensen stoked Jared's hair as he spoke.

Jared squeezed his eyes shut in abject despair. 

A bolt of pure emotion shot through Jensen's psyche. He had never felt so scared, so helpless and so determined to help someone in his life. This was important. _Jared_ was important. Jensen shook Jared's shoulders forcefully. "Look at me, Jay."

Jared shook his head. 

"I. Said. Look. At. Me." 

That got through because Jared breathed twice through his nose and looked up.

"Jared," Jensen kept his voice low and steady. "You are the master at figuring out puzzles and putting them to code. You, are the master at unwinding glitches, anomalies and hiccups and finding brilliant, ingenious, solutions for them. You, Jared Padalecki, have a brain big enough, wise enough, and _smart_ enough to diagnose, treat, and cure any curses, hexes, spells or whammies that Big Mark or Little Mark or that Dick may have used to booby trap the system. You _got_ this."

Jared sniffed. Jensen, in all his nerdy geekiness, continued the only way he knew how. 

"Jared, even though your system may be barely alive, you can rebuild it. I know you can. You can rebuild it because you have the technology, you have the capability, and because you are better, stronger and faster than you were before."

Jared's eyebrows pulled together in thought. He mouthed the words, _better, stronger and faster_ to himself until his eyes gleamed.

"I get it. It's because I'm bionic, right? I'm the bionic computer programmer?" He sat straight. "I'm the Six Million Dollar bionic programmer, right?"

"Maybe?" Jensen answered. "I mean, yes. Yes, you can do anything because, because…"

"Can I have a telescopic eye, too? I love that Steve Austin had cross hairs when he zeroed in on something."

"Yes," Jensen said with a sigh. "You can have a telescopic eye, even one that makes a sound when it's targeting something, _and_ you can run sixty miles an hour."

"And throw something into space?"

"But only with your right arm," Jensen instructed.

"Okay. Good thing I'm right-handed, then." Jared heaved in a breath and let it out.

He looked at Jensen, really looked at him. A fond smile crossed his lips. 

Jensen eyed Jared to assess his status and found that he was breathing normally, the sweating had stopped, and, more importantly, he' d stopped banging his head.

Jared's arms came around Jensen in a tender embrace. "Thank you. Thank you for being here. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for your faith in me. Thank you for your geek references. Thank you for everything."

"Oh Jared. You don't have to thank me." Jensen leaned into Jared and held tight. "Are you going to be okay? I really want you to be okay."

"As long as you're around to keep me on track with old TV intros, I should be just fine." 

"That can be arranged. Listen," Jensen recited, " _There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity_. And then something about the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. Does it work if I only know some of the intro? I think I know all of this one, _Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings…_ "

Jared covered Jensen's lips with his, drowning his words and using his tongue to lick them out of his mouth. Jared whispered into Jensen's ear, "You can shut up now." 

Jensen thought he should be angry, or embarrassed, but all he felt was good. He felt good because Jared was finally resurfacing. "Okay," Jensen said between kisses. "Shutting up, now."

Jared calmed and he took back his tongue. He took in a long, cleansing breath and let it out.  
"You are good for me," he said. "For so many reasons."

Then he looked Jensen up and down several times and snickered. Then he grabbed Jensen and hugged him close laughing out loud. "Jensen, Jensen, Jensen, you are too much."

Jensen's head was spinning. He didn't know to be worried or relieved, but he decided to go along with it. "Jared, Jared, Jared," he repeated back while bear-hugging him. "You are too much, too."

Jared's laughter was contagious and a little hysterical, but it was music to Jensen's ears. As Jared's laughter wound down, Jensen stroked his sweaty hair and kissed his head. "Are you okay, now?"

"I guess once I get my head out of the _cumulus_ I will be. I'm not great," Jared breathed deep again, "but I am better because you're here. I'll tell you all about it later, but first I need food and, and, you."

"And me?"

"You," he kissed Jensen softly. "I now know we are MFEO because after your geek TV references—your geek weather tee shirt was the last straw I needed to snap me out of a deep zone melt down."

"I didn't understand a word you said." Jensen replied. "But I know what my nose is telling me, and it's that you need a shower before you do anything else."

Jared raised his eyebrows.

"No, Jared. You really need a shower." He steered Jared toward the door. "Where's your bathroom?"

"Pick one. I have five."

"You pick one. I'll try to find something edible in the kitchen." He shoved him out the door. "Nice digs, by the way."

"Thanks." Jared sniffed his armpits and paled. "Holy shit. Something died under my arms."

"I know. After I find something for us to eat, I'll locate your washing machine."

"My hero." 

"Hey, Jay? MFEO?"

"Made for each other."

"I know, and boy, that really is nerdy of us. Now go," Jensen pointed to the hall. "Wash."

"Okay, okay. But I think you should know that I like it when you're bossy." 

_"Now."_

Jared exaggerated a shiver. 

Jensen laughed and headed for the kitchen.

Jared's called from the hall, "Bread's in the bread drawer, there's another freezer in the pantry if you can't find anything you like, and help yourself to anything you can find. I have no idea what's in there." Jared climbed up three steps. "Thanks for coming."

"You're welcome. I should probably tell you that I can't cook," Jensen shouted out the doorway. "Like, at all."

Jared answered, "I don’t care."

"You say that now."

  


Fortunately, macaroni and cheese was next to impossible to mess up. Toast, coffee, bacon and bag salad with poppyseed dressing rounded up the meal. With pop-tarts for dessert.

Jared chose to crumble his bacon into his mac and cheese. It looked good, but Jensen felt it diminished the mac and cheese's raison d'être.

"Can you tell me what's going on? What happened to the program?" Jensen decided against toasting the strawberry pop-tart before eating it.

"You get your own weather streams and put your own forecasts together, so this won't affect you as much as the news, business, and sports guys." Jared crumbled some more bacon into his salad. 

"What won't?" He should have toasted the pop-tart. It tasted too doughy or something.

Jared took in a breath. "We were installing the preliminary updates to the new operating system we created, when the system shut down without warning and wouldn't reboot. At first, I thought it was an error in the code that caused the blue screen, and not the hardware since the hardware, old as it was, was working as the updates were being uploaded. But then all the processors and all the hard drives horked up, almost like there was a ghost in the machine." He shook his head sadly.

"Do you know how to fix it?" 

"No." Jared stood and stretched. "No, I don't, and I should. Most of the new program is based on _my own_ precise coding not willy-nilly coding that takes days to debug. I've been over it and over it, and can't find any major bugs or errors. I mean, there are always bugs in a new program, but not one that causes this." Jared made jazz hands. 

"Can you start over?"

"If we can't find and correct the problem, we're going to have to, but we're already behind schedule and are going over budget soon. But the hardest thing to come to terms with, the _hardest thing_ , is that I can't figure it out. I mean, I'm a master trendsetter, not a n00b who puts out kludge software!"

"I know, I know." Jensen didn't know. "I'll help you anyway I can. I get all the internet and cable news streams and sport's news from my system at home along with my weather information, and I can help Katy compile the stuff the local viewers are most interested in until your non-kludge coding is up and running." 

Jensen really didn't know.

"You're so kind, but Katie and Chad are all over it while Osric and Big Jim are handling the sports info. Misha's working furiously on rewriting strings of my code, even though he swears he can't find anything wrong with it. Everybody's working hard trying to fix _my_ mistakes. Even you. Here _you_ are baby-sitting me and making me lunch? Dinner? Breakfast?" 

"I don't mind. None of us minds. We're—I –I am here for you." Jensen refilled their coffee cups from the carafe. "We're having a late lunch, by the way."

"Thank you." Jared really had spectacular dimples. "Who's doing your weather spot?"

"I am." Jensen decided to throw the strawberry one away and toast the blueberry one with frosting and sprinkles. 

"But you're here."

"Ah, the magic of television and the good fortune of unvarying weather. I asked Felicia to have DJ rerun the evening and nighttime forecasts from this afternoon."

Jensen sipped his coffee, waiting for the toaster to pop. 

"You're the best," Jared praised.

"Aw shucks. Hey, if you don't mind," Jensen kept his voice evenly modulated. "I'd like to stick around here for a day or two, keeping the geek references coming, making eggs and toast—a specialty of mine—keeping you company if you need a friendly face to yell at. Although, you are not allowed to damage the face."

Jared silently stared as Jensen rambled nervously on. "I have lots of vacation time and, if needed, Brock can do the weather. He loves being on during the week."

"Thank you. That would be awesome."

"Oh, good." Jensen let out a relieved breath. "I'm not used to inviting myself to stay at people's houses and wasn't sure I was doing it right."

"You're doing it right. You're doing everything right. But I must warn you that I'll be buried in code, and won't be much fun." Jared looked sad. "I might not even know you're here."

"That's okay. I'll know I'm here."

"Are you for real?"

"I don't know," Jensen looked up through his lashes. "I might be bionic, too. I mean, look at this." Jensen unleashed his trademark Number One.

"Blue Steel," Jared whispered in mock awe. Channeling his inner Will Ferrell, he said, "Dear God. It's beautiful."

"Well, I am really, really, really ridiculously good-looking." Jensen laughed at his own Ben-Stiller-as-Zoolander imitation. 

"That you are. Please stay?"

"I already asked if I could." Jensen stood and leaned over Jared, kissing the top of his head. 

"I was just making sure." Jared raised his head and tipped Jensen's head down. He kissed him once on the lips, and once on each eyelid. Jared breathed in deep and long. "Do you think you could love me if I gave you a chance?" 

" _A_ chance?" Jensen smoothed Jared's hair away from his face and kissed him again. "I'll give you a million." 

After all, it was only fair to return the favor.

  


_  
The National Weather Service has issued a hurricane watch for Nassau, the Bahamas, and the northern aspect of the island nation of Cuba, as tropical storm Baby has now intensified to a Category 1 hurricane. Baby has clocked sustained winds of 75 miles per hour with gusts up to 92 miles per hour. The storm's track is still undefined and the cone of uncertainty includes areas as far north as southern Florida and as far south as the Cayman Islands. We will keep you updated to the status of this tropical hurricane._

Jensen recorded this data into his iPad but wasn't too worried. It was his duty to report the weather, but not cause undo concern about a weather system that was far away and whose path was so uncertain. Frankly, he'd seen this one coming and configured his own hurricane spaghetti models. Coconut Bay wasn't in the path of any of Baby's primary tracks.

He lived in Florida, and tropical storms, hurricanes, thunderstorms, lightning, hail, and tornadoes were all part of normal daily living on this peninsula in the Gulf. Coconut Bay was nestled in the south-western Gulf of Mexico corner of the state, where JAPDED reigned (Just Another Perfect Day Every Day). 

"You're on in ten, Jensen," DJ shouted into the open door of Jensen's second bedroom. He promptly clicked a key on his iPad and got up. It was the Wednesday high noon news and weathercast, so it was around 12:40. 

At the WBB studios, the monitors still glowed an empty bright blue and the all the computer screens projected error messages and warnings. 

Because of the station's massive system crash, Jensen's home became "Weather Central" and WBB and PMC had put in an impressive amount of resources into the equipment and bandwidth needed to broadcast the weather from Jensen's home weather hub. 

Jensen had stayed with Jared until Sunday, sleeping in the downstairs guest room, while Jared slept on the couch in his den. He fed and watered him until the station informed them that they were moving the whole weather operation to Jensen's house.

"I wonder how they knew that I had a weather feed or two available in my bedroom?" Jensen had asked, pointedly. 

"I told Misha," Jared admitted. 

"So, now he knows I'm a giant weather dork. Everybody at the station knows I’m a giant weather dork, too, right?" 

"Right." Jared said. "But, they also think you're a superhero because you are single-handedly keeping WBB live and on the air."

"They do? I am?"

"You are. Remember, not all heroes wear capes. Reluctantly, I must let you go home to your Upstairs Weather Lair in order to save the world. I'll study up, so that one day, I can be one of your henchmen."

As awesome as that sounded, Jensen kind of didn't want to leave. "Are you okay, now?"

Jared kissed him softly and assured Jensen that he would be okay on his own. Jensen called Genevieve to come back, just in case. 

As usual, Jensen compiled, reviewed and checked his weather data for accuracy at least three times, before hitting the air. Using a remote camera and broadcast set-up, either DJ or Felicia would assist from his house to broadcast his weather report live from his backyard, or if the weather was uncharacteristically bad or just too dark, his second bedroom.

This was a pretty cushy set-up as far as Jensen was concerned. Now, he could stay at home instead of walking the mile and some back to the studio for his segments. Coffee on demand from his own French press was a definite plus. 

Maybe it was overkill because the local WBB viewers didn't appear to notice or care that their weather didn't change much from day to day, or that their news was the mirror image of CNNs. However, Alaina had intimated, that they _would_ notice if their weather and sports were recycled from cable news. Hence, the set-up at Jensen's house. Big Jim still talked sports, live, from the station, helped by Osric and the production assistants who scoured the local papers for sports updates, and Big Jim's own local contacts. 

Jensen's backyard didn't have Jared's Gulf of Mexico as a backdrop, but his property had pineapple palms, bright pink Oleander flowers and Gumbo Limbo trees. It was pretty.

"And you're on in three, two, one," DJ pointed at Jensen.

"Happy Wednesday afternoon, Coconut Bay," Jensen chimed. The afternoon weather was clear, hot and perfect. The evening forecast was partly cloudy, warm and perfect, and the forecast for Thursday was hot, sunny and perfect. 

"And there's no better place to spend a Wednesday than here at the Bay."

Jensen pointed his finger for emphasis. "Remember to stay hydrated and recycle your water bottles properly to keep the Gulf waters clear and plastic free."

Jensen stood at full height and tried out his new Number Twenty. Eyebrows high, both dimples showing and an opened-mouth smile.

DJ showed three, two, one fingers and, "We are off the air. Good job, Jensen. Nobody does weather better than you. Hey, would you mind if, you know, since we're at your house and you have a fenced-in yard, if Scout could come with me tomorrow for Bring Your Dog to Work Day?"

"Is that for real?" Jensen smoothed away the laugh lines around his mouth.

"Maybe."

Jensen cracked a grin. "Of course. Scout is always welcome here. I don't have a pool like Jared does for him to skinny-dip in, but he can romp in the backyard all day, as long as you clean up after him." 

"Thanks, Jense."

"You're welcome, Deej."

Jensen wandered into his kitchen for a snack when a thought hit him. _Maybe that could be a public announcement_. He grabbed his notepad and wrote: A poop-free yard is a happy yard. Always clean up after your dog when he… 

His cell phone rang; he read the caller ID before answering.

"Yello?" Jensen said with a smile.

"Ahoy hoy," Jared's cheery voice replied.

"You sound happy," Jensen tucked his pen and pad away.

"I am, because I'm taking you out to dinner tonight."

"You are?"

"Yes, I are." Jared paused and Jensen heard keyboard clicking. "PMC's rock-solid IT team has fixed most of the problems and it wasn't my fault at all."

Jensen sat in his recliner and put his feet up. "No?"

"Nope. The Marks and Dick did, indeed, booby trap the system, but I am smarter. I, Jensen, am king of the IT world and beyond."

"Then I bow to your superior intellect and amazing good looks." 

Silence.

"Jared?"

"I'm not sure what I liked better, the compliment on my looks or the mental image I got of you bowing to my superior intellect."

"You're bad."

"And the whole world has to answer right now, come on! I'm bad, I'm bad, you know it." Jared went into a Michael Jackson riff of _I'm Bad_. It sounded like he was dancing, too.

"Did you call to sing to me? Wait a minute, is that even called singing?"

Jared harrumphed. "I called because I thought you'd be impressed and oh-so-very proud of me that I'm about to get your employer's system up and running."

"I am. Very proud. When?"

"Well, we finish checking the system's RAM space, startup times, runtimes, recovery systems…"

"Jared, that's not telling me anything."

"Okay, so tomorrow we do technical IT stuff, and shortly after that we'll do test uploads."

"Just tell me day-wise. I'm not literate in uploads and runtimes." Jensen put the phone on speaker and peeled his snack banana.

"Pushy, pushy." Jared chewed on something that crunched. "I'd say a week and a half, two weeks tops. So, would you like to go out with me for dinner this evening and maybe a drink after? They have a great Wednesday Night Mexican Special at _Nacho Mama_."

"You're on," Jensen said. "I love _Nacho Mama_ 's guacamole. Pick me up after the 6:00 Sports and Weather. I do have to be back home for the 9:00 Weather Wrap-Up, so around 9:40 but that doesn't mean I have to be…alone." Jensen tried to add a seductive quality to his banana filled words.

"Okay, _you're_ on. Hey Jensen?"

"Yeah?" Jensen thought about getting another banana. When they were yellow with a hint of green at the tips, they were perfect. But they only lasted a day or so like that, so he wanted to eat them while they _were_ perfect.

"Thank you for being so understanding about my, you know, stuff."

"You're what stuff?"

"You know—the how I get stuff."

"I'm not sure I know the stuff of which you speak, but you're welcome." Jensen decided on the banana and went to the kitchen to get Just Another Perfect Banana From the Fruit bowl. 

"Hey, Jared?"

"Yeah?" Jared crunched again.

"For the record, I like you a lot, and I’m consenting in advance, no matter how much Sangria we drink tonight."

"Noted," Jared laughed. "The feeling's mutual."

"Would you still like me if I wasn't the weather whiz slash nerd that I am?"

"Hmm," Jared bit and chewed. "Probably not."

"Oh, good," Jensen laughed. "That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to _me_." 

"Looks like we really _were_ made for each other," Jared agreed. "I'm looking forward to having taquitos and chimichangas with you tonight. I'll pick you up a little after seven. Will that work for you?"

"Sounds good."

"See you soon."

"That you will."

Jensen realized that his job predicting and broadcasting the weather, which was his passion, his hobby and his livelihood, suddenly wasn't the most important thing in his life anymore. 

Huh.

When did that happen?

  


"Bienvenido a Nacho Mama's. I am Señorita RayShauNa and I'll be serving you esta noche. Can I get you something to drink while you read el menú?" She placed a large bowl of tortilla chips and three kinds of salsa on the table.

"I was going to do Sangria, but I've got to work tonight." He looked up at RayShauNa. "What do you have on tap?" 

"El Sol, okay?"

"That's great." Jensen licked his lips, eyeing up the enchiladas with pinto beans and yellow rice.

"Make that two, and could you bring some of Mama's home-made guacamole, medium spicy?" Jared said, both dimples, both amazing dimples, blazing. "Por favor?"

"Sure thing, dos cervezas con guac coming up."

"So," Jensen said, dipping a complimentary Tostito into the hot salsa. "What is _your_ favorite color, and what are your hopes and dreams?"

"Stealing my thunder, eh? I expected better from you." Jared snapped the chip out of Jensen's hand and dipped it for himself. 

"That's really not the way to woo me, you know." Jensen quickly dipped another one and crunched it.

"Who says I’m trying to woo you?" 

Jensen cocked his head to the left.

Jared cocked his head to the right. "Aww hell, who am I kidding? My favorite color is the green of your eyes. My hopes and dreams are both that I can get you to like me half as much as I like you."

"You like me, then?" 

"I admit it. I'm almost all the way in-like with you, the whole package. Your eyes, your voice, and your great, big, nerdy weather brain." Jared snaked his hand, the one unencumbered by salsa and/or chips, under the table to rest on Jensen's thigh. He added softly, "So, so in-like with you."

"I've said it before, usually cheesy doesn't work on me, but when you do it, I buy every word you're selling." He shook his head. "Every. Time. How are you doing that?"

"I could say I placed some magic in the code I wrote for you." Jared moved his hand higher on Jensen's thigh. "I could say that I JavaScripted a _spell_ and ran it on you. Or," He leaned over the table, closer to Jensen. "I could say," he whispered, "that I hypnotized, mesmerized," his lips were caressing Jensen's ear, "and systematically conspired to…"

"Dos cervezas aqui!" RayShauNa chirped, placing the frothy beers down. "Are you ready to orden del menú or would you like to hear about tonight's especiales?

"No, that's okay," Jensen said letting out a breath, hoping that his ears weren't as pink as they felt. "I'll have _Nacho Mama_ 's Wednesday night Enchilada Special, I mean, Especiale. And another cerveza, please."

"Okey dokey, and for you, señor?

"I'll have the Chimichanga Grande Especiale and a side order of frijoles negros y arroz with flat bread. Oh, and those cinnamon sticks with some chocolate for dipping."

"What is it with you and food dipping?" Jensen said, dipping his tortilla chip.

"Would you like to wait for dessert for the churros, or have them with the meal?" RayShauNa stood at the ready.

"Bring them all together, señorita."

"Muy bien. Be right back with cerveza refills."

"Gracias." Jared sat back, eyes sparkling.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," Jensen said, sipping his cerveza. 

"I speak Mexican Restaurant Menu Spanish," Jared replied, as he dipped another chip.

"I don't know, the way you rolled the r's in frijoles negros sounded pretty authentic." Jensen leaned in. "I wonder what else there is to know about you."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin', but if you juega tus cartas right, you may know a whole lot more about me before the night is over." Jared pretended to shuffle a deck of cards. 

"I would juega tus cartas anywhere you want me to." Jensen scooped salsa and smiled.

"You're easy. That's another thing I like about you."

"It is one of my most charming qualities." Jensen placed his hand on _Jared's_ thigh.

"I'd call for the check right now if I didn't like _Nacho Mama_ 's Chimichangas so much."

"Aww, you're such a sweet talker. I guess that's why I’m falling for you."

"You are?" Jared sat up. "You're falling?"

Jensen shrugged. "Maybe already fell. Started to fall when you sweated through my dissertation on Hurricane Harvey."

"Yeah?"

"Nobody I've ever dated has found updrafts so sexy. Nobody." Jensen chuckled. "Other people I've dated, they would put up with the weather thing, but never had any real interest. You accepted my obsession and ran with it. That's, that's very special."

"If no one else found your drive, your passion and your overwhelming interest in the forces of nature sexy, then shame on them. But I thank God for that." He took Jensen's hand off his thigh and twined their fingers together under the table. "It made it so that I'm the lucky guy taking you out for enchiladas tonight."

"So cheesy and sweet." Jensen leaned in close and kissed Jared's spicy lips. "I'm not sure how you did it, but I'm not letting you get away. Being in-like goes both ways, señor."

"That's so, so good to hear." Jared raised Jensen's knuckles to his lips and kissed them one by one.

"You know what?" Jensen's eyes were shining.

"What?"

"I can't wait to get you home—lock DJ and Scout in the backyard—and get naked with you. I've got a big bed in the master bedroom and lots of pillows. We don't have to do more than explore each other's bodies in the dark, if that's all you want right now, but I'm up for more when you're ready."

Jared stared glassy-eyed, a bead of sweat sliding down his left temple.

Jensen cleared his throat and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so bold. I hope it's okay that I said that."

Jared looked around wildly, raised his hand and shouted, "Check please!"

They didn't actually get the check just then because they were both hungry and _Nacho Mama_ 's made fabulous guacamole.

  



	3. Part Three

~~*~~*~~  
"That's the Wednesday Late Night Weather Wrap Up. We should get together tomorrow and spread out in the Coconut Bay sun because it will be JAPSTAD." He aimed his number Eight at the camera and said, "Just Another Perfect Sunny Thursday Day. Stay safe and always check that you have an emergency transistor radio with up-to-date batteries." Jensen shot the camera lens with his index finger gun and clicked his tongue.

Three fingers, two fingers, one finger, "And that's a wrap for the Wednesday Late Night Weather Wrap Up. So, Jensen, I traded with Felicia so Scout and I could be here first thing in the morning. Scout loves a morning sunrise and I thought he'd like to run amongst your Gumbo Limbo trees." 

DJ pulled his headset off and checked something off on his clipboard before unplugging the sound board. "I hope that's okay."

"Don't come too early." Jensen was trying to hide his excitement. Jared was waiting for him in the Upstairs Weather Lair bedroom. Apparently, nothing turned Jensen on more than imagining Jared scanning the North American Mesoscale Forecast System. 

DJ laughed. "You know I won't. Scout likes to sleep late, but don't worry, we'll make it in time for your morning broadcast."

"No doubt."

"I really appreciate all the faith you have in me. So," He finished wrapping the cables and powering down. "see you in the morning."

"Yes," Jensen dragged DJ to the door by his shirt tail. "Tomorrow. Sleep tight and let Scout get all the beauty rest he needs."

"You're so considerate about Scout's needs, too." Jensen nudged DJ out the front door with his shoulder. DJ turned with a wistful expression, "I really wish you had a dog. We could have great play dates."

"I know. Maybe someday. Bye." He shut the door gently but firmly behind DJ and locked the deadbolt. And the chain bolt. And turned the lock on the knob. 

Jensen ducked into his downstairs bathroom and quick-brushed his teeth, untucked his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair for that care-free, windblown look. It was a good look for him.

He bounded up the stairs and headed for the weather bedroom. That's when he saw that the door to his master was open and the lights were on. He slowed his steps and heard soft music playing. Creedence Clearwater Revival's _Who'll Stop the Rain_ abruptly ended and then Garth Brooks sang _The Thunder Rolls_ , followed a few seconds later by Lena Horn's sultry voice crooning _Stormy Weather_. 

Jensen stepping into the room caused a startled Jared to guiltily straighten up. 

"I, um, I just," Jared stammered.

"You made a mixtape with weather songs for me, didn't you?" Jensen put his hands on his hips. "Didn't you?"

"Maybe, yes?" Jared tried to hide his iPhone behind his back, muffling The Fortunes singing, _Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again._

"What other songs are on there?" Jensen took a step in Jared's direction, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding off his tie as he went.

Jared's jaw dropped when Jensen stripped off his belt and began stepping out of his slacks. 

"Um…Neil Sedaka's _Laughter in the Rain_ , and _They Call the Wind Mariah_ , from the Original Soundtrack of Paint Your Wagon," Jared faced Jensen, forgetting his iPhone as Jensen started kissing up and down his neck and shoulders. " _A Rainy Night in Georgia._ " Jared shivered as Jensen slid his hand down Jared's back and lifted his shirt up over his head.

"Brook Benton or George Benson?" Jensen demanded as he unbuttoned Jared's fly.

"B..Benton. Brook Benton." Jared moaned into Jensen's hair.

"Good choice. Anything else?" Jensen's hands traveled up. He lifted Jared's beanie off and kissed behind his ear.

" _Here Comes the Rain Again_ , by the Eurythmics, and it wouldn't be fair not to put in Jimmy Buffett's, _Tryin' to Reason with Hurricane Season._ "

Jensen pulled back. "I don't know that one."

"It's on his "Buffett Hotel" album." Jared pulled Jensen to him looking him square in the eyes. "Sorry, but I hadn't gotten around to getting The Weathergirls _It's Raining Men_ yet." 

"Hallelujah!" Jensen dove in, pushing Jared down on the bed and fumbling with his zipper. 

"Wait! Wait!"

"What _now_? I'm not drunk, I promise!"

"I have a confession to make." At Jensen's narrowed eyes, Jared quickly continued, "I saw you do the weather when I said I only saw Brock. I only watched you do the weather twice or maybe five times, but no more. I didn't fall for you because of your pretty face, and I want you to know that."

"You didn't? I mean you did? Watch me and didn't like my face?"

"No, no, I love your face but not _only_ your face. Please keep kissing me."

"Okay, then," kiss, "stop," kiss, "fucking," kiss, kiss, "confessing." 

Jensen made short work of Jared's pants, and even though he had some trouble untangling the socks from the hem of the jeans, all in all, he finally ended with a very naked, very aroused computer programmer spread before him.

And he was glorious.

"Wow." Jensen whispered. He went on auto pilot as he removed the rest of his own clothing, staring wide-eyed at Jared laid out on his bed. 

"Wow," Jensen gasped, again. "You are—I want—You are so," Jensen dove into his pillow-laden mattress and scooted up in between Jared's spread thighs. "I can't even—you are too, too,"

"So are you, Jensen." Jared appeared to be having some difficulty forming words as his mouth kept opening and closing. "You have no idea. Jesus."

Jensen laughed, "I'm usually better at coming up with words and stuff. I mean, I talk in front of a camera for a living. I guess I'm out of one-on-one practice, but, holy cow, Jared, have you seen _you_? Christ." Jensen leaned in, kissing Jared from his chest to his chin. Jensen hoped he wasn't out of practice on the sex and stuff.

"You're not out of practice." 

Jensen must have said that last part out loud.

"Hey, what's this?" Jared tugged at a silver chain Jensen wore around his neck, and then kissed under the chain.

"It's, uh, he's, uh," Jensen arched his neck. "Saint Medardus."

"Saint Medardus?" Jared stopped and looked.

Jensen pulled Jared's face back to his neck where it was. "Patron saint of weather and weathermen."

"Saint Medardus?" Jared mumbled into Jensen's neck.

"I'm a lapsed Catholic, my mother is not. She gave this to me after I discovered The Weather Channel and watched it for forty-eight hours straight. Now, can we get back to the matter at hand?" 

"Aye aye, sir." Jared dove in again.

Jensen kissed Jared's open mouth, giving his tongue permission to move about on its own accord. Jared moaned in a way that made Jensen quiver from head to toe. Jensen reeled in his tongue only to taste the beads of sweat dripping down Jared's neck to his chest.

"You're doing great. You're doing perfect. You are perfect." Jared stretched his body out, giving Jensen access to any part of it he wanted. "Keep going. Do anything you want."

Which was fine with Jensen, since he wanted it all, he wanted it all, and he wanted it now. 

He tasted, and sucked, and licked, and touched and kissed and worked up and down Jared's body. From the shiny hair on his beanie-less head to the muscles of his long, long legs. And then, as he immersed himself in the soft hairs around Jared's navel, Jared's fully erect cock could not, would not be ignored. He looked up into Jared's eyes. Jared nodded and closed them.

Jensen grasped Jared's shaft, wetted his lips and suckled the head of Jared's cock, grasping his own erection to slow down his excitement. Jared moaned and pumped his hips impatiently. 

Jensen took the hint and opened wide. He took Jared in as deeply as he could, making messy puddles of saliva on Jared's belly. Jensen opened his throat, relaxed his jaw and sucked in a breath through his nose as he gently bobbed up and down on Jared's cock. 

Jared's head thrashed from side to side making him look like a porn star acting for the cameras. That thought turned Jensen on more than it should have. Tears ran from his eyes and he swallowed as best he could with his mouth stuffed full of Jared's amazing manhood. 

_Amazing manhood?_

Suddenly Jared pushed Jensen back, "Stop, stop, _stop."_

Jensen screeched to a halt. "What's wrong, now?" His voice was rubbed raw from the pressure of Jared's erection on his vocal cords. It sounded sexy even to him. 

Jared glared. "You know nothing's wrong. That was the best blow job ever and it was all I could do to get you to stop. Come here."

Jensen was pretty sure he wasn't being reprimanded. He was absolutely sure when Jared descended upon _him_ , all teeth, tongue and lips. 

"Holy shit, Jensen. Have you seen you?" Jared kissed like it was his last night on earth. Tongue testing, tangling and delving into the softness of Jensen's mouth without coming up for air. In the background of Jensen's mind, he heard _Nearer, My God, to The_ e playing, because Jared was positively killing him. 

Jared latched on Jensen's left nipple then his right. Jared fisting Jensen's dick, carefully at first, then with increased speed and friction. Jared stopped long enough to wet his fingers by sucking on them and went back to driving Jensen's dick crazy, nuzzling the soft hairs of his treasure trail. 

"Do you have lube," Jared mumbled, "because I brought some if you don't have any."

"Yes. Yes, I have lube, but I don't want you to stop."

"Where is it," Jared rasped.

"Top dresser drawer." Jensen pointed to his dresser on the far side of the room. "And in the bathroom cabinet." Jensen moaned at Jared's well-placed finger giving just the right pressure under the head of his cock. "And the hall closet." Jensen gestured out the bedroom door. "Also, the middle drawer in the desk in the second bedroom." He gestured with his head toward the hallway as he flailed back and forth at what Jared was doing with his mouth. "Downstairs," he wheezed, "in the guest bathroom." Jensen pointed toward the floor with his eyes squeezed shut. 

"I get it, I get it, lots of lube, none right here. I guess I'll have to improvise." Jared slid his hand between Jensen's legs and softly stroked his balls. And then, not so softly.

Jensen's not sure but he may have started to cry, because Jared expertly sucked Jensen' cock into his mouth and swallowed him down.

"Holy shit, Jared, holy _shit_." Jensen was strung as tight as a bowstring. Jared hummed and Jensen could feel him smiling around his erection. 

And then the world went white as he came without warning, hard and fast into Jared's mouth. He couldn't believe how rude he was for not warning him, because he was as shocked by the intensity of it as Jared must have been. 

To Jensen's surprise, Jared continued licking and swallowing until Jensen was used up.

"Sorry, Jay," Jensen panted. "Sorry, sorry."

"Oh, quiet. In case you didn't realize, that was the whole point of this endeavor." Jared's voice was rough, sexy and cheerful. "Making you come as hard and as long and as many times as possible."

Jensen's dick gave a brave twitch as it tried valiantly to get hard again. It tried even harder when Jared's wet fingers—he must have taken out his own lube—slid between Jensen's ass cheeks and centered on his tightly furled hole. 

Jensen hummed softly and spread his legs. Taking that as the invitation it was, Jared poured another dollop on his fingers and rubbed harder, breaching the tight ring of muscle ever so gently. 

"Have you ever done this all the way?" Jared asked, pressing a little harder but retreating.

"Yeah, but not for a long time and I'm the one, I mean, I usually, mmmm." Jensen's explanation of how he usually tops got lost in the sensation of Jared pressing his index finger in slowly and crooking it a little.

"Is this okay?" Jared asked.

"Yes. Very okay," Jensen hummed. "I'm all yours tonight in any way you want me."

Jared kissed down his shoulders, back, and the cleft of his ass. "You have no idea how badly I want you." Jared was still hard, and his moist, hard cock left little trails of pre-come on Jensen's skin. "No idea." He kissed up his neck and then into his mouth.

Actually, Jensen had a pretty good idea.

Jensen pushed back into Jared's finger prompting Jared to use one, then two more fingers. He was slow, careful, methodical, and considerate. 

"You're so smart, and gorgeous, and passionate." Jared muttered as he pumped his fingers deep into Jensen. "You're driven, committed, drop dead sexy, and, right now, you're all mine."

It briefly occurred to Jensen that maybe he should be concerned by what Jared was saying, but to his surprise, he was pleased, flattered, and had no reason to disagree with anything he said.

"Back at'cha," Jensen groaned as Jared found a particularly happy spot inside Jensen. "Oh, yes, I'm ready." He lifted his head and looked at Jared head on. "I am ready. Hit me with your best shot, Jared."

"Yeah?"

Jensen pointed to his master bathroom. "Condoms are next to the lube."

Jared jumped out of the bed, spilling four or five pillows onto the floor as he sped to the bathroom. 

Jared was visibly shaking as he returned and hopped on the mattress. "Here, let me," Jensen said reaching for the condom. 

Jared blushed from head to chest and handed him the packet. Jensen opened it with his teeth and slowly, carefully, methodically and considerately rolled the condom down Jared's entire length. He found the lube and added some to the already pre-lubricated latex sheath. He added some to his entrance and spread his legs. Jared crawled up and placed Jensen's legs over his shoulders. 

"I'll go slow. I want you this way so I can see you. I know it's been a while for you, so if you need me to stop so you can turn over, I will. But, God, Jensen, look at you. You look amazing like this. I can't believe how lucky I am."

For the second time tonight, Jensen thought he might cry. What the hell was _wrong_ with him? He didn't have much time to ponder that question as Jared nudged the blunt head of his hard cock up to Jensen's stretched and ready hole.

"I'll go slow. Relax. Think happy thoughts."

Jensen closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He let his mind wander to a tropical rain forest, where the hushing sound of rain on the leaves was all around. He let out a breath as Jared breached his outer ring of muscle. There was a sting, but no real pain. He opened his mind and pictured the dew drops on the farm fields he visited in high school. It was stunning with the morning sunrise creating hundreds of thousands of miniature prisms with little rainbows of color on the ground. 

Jared had moved up an inch and all Jensen felt was a slight, burning pressure. 

"You're doing so good, Jen. You are so awesome and sexy like this." Jared sounded like he was holding his breath. "God, you're hot. Hot to look at, hot to touch."

It was probably taking a toll on Jared, going so slow. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" More wetness making his hole slick and slippery. 

Jensen shook his head and let out a breath. Huge wind turbines, on the Biglow Canyon wind farm when he visited Oregon. Wind power from almost unceasing winds, whipping down the fields. And, in the sky, low stratus clouds hung, looking like fog hugging the horizon. Higher up, scattered gray patches of altocumulus clouds, resembling herds of sheep marching across the blueness, not to be confused with the curly cirrus clouds climbing higher and higher in the atmosphere where low temperatures and low water vaper exists. Finally, the mighty cumulonimbus clouds rising high into towers forming the anvil shaped thunderheads.

Jared was fully seated. Jensen could feel his tension, caused from holding back. 

Jensen opened his eyes. Jared's eyes were flashing like lightning. Jensen nodded, "Fire away."

Jared breathed out in relief and slowly at first, but better, stronger, and faster, Jared pumped into Jensen with a look of pure dimpled bliss.

Jensen grappled for the headboard, and once he had a grip, he pushed back into Jared, thrust for thrust. Jared tried a few angles until he found the sweet spot that punched all the air out of Jensen's lungs. 

"Fuck, Jared, fuck. So good, fuck." Jensen chanted in time with Jared's thrusts.

"Jensen, I can't hold off. I can't. _Shit_." Now it looked like it was Jared's turn to cry.

"Go. Go for it, Jay." 

To Jensen's surprise, Jared reached down and pumped Jensen to full hardness and matched his strokes to the thrusts of Jared's hips. Jensen never believed the porn he read about both partners coming at the same time. However, while Jared definitely came first, Jensen was close behind. 

Jared tried not to fall directly on top of Jensen, but he did land on him sideways. 

"You okay, Jen? You okay?" He pulled out slowly.

"I'm fine. I'm great. I'm better than great." Jensen stretched carefully and found he was pretty okay. 

"You are. You are better than great." Jared nuzzled his neck and chin and kissed the line of his silver chain. "Thank you for this. What we did just now. Thank you." Each 'thank you' was punctuated with a kiss.

"Jared, you were awesome. You are the best, and not only the sex. Which was awesome." Jensen was rambling.

"No, you," Jared countered.

"No, _you_." 

Jared removed the condom, tied it off and tossed it in the direction of the bathroom. "Hold on," he told Jensen.

Like the gentleman he was, Jared came out of the bathroom with a warm wash cloth and wiped Jensen down. Then he threw the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom. 

"I want a shower, but I really want you to come back and go to sleep with me. Is that okay? Am I sounding too needy?" Jensen said, sounding needy.

"Not at all. You make me feel wanted."

"And wanted you are." Jensen yawned. "Now get back in here."

"I told you I love it when you're bossy." He smirked and crawled back in the bed. 

Jensen used his remote to turn on the ceiling fan. That made it so they were cool enough to pull up the sheet and lightweight cotton blanket around them.

"This is nice," Jared closed his eyes.

"You're nice." Jensen said.

"No, you," Jared said sleepily, and took Jensen's hand.

"No, _you_ ," Jensen said slipping off into the night, dreaming of rare red lightning sprites and bright cirrostratus sundogs.

  


"Say some more." Jared stroked Jensen's ear with the tip of his finger.

"You want more?" Jensen breathed.

"Uh huh."

"Okay, how about—Beaufort Wind Scale."

Jared kissed a trail behind Jensen's ear. 

Jensen trembled, "Corrected Density Altitude." Jared licked a line to his neck.

" Laser…Laser Doppler…anemometer," Jensen gasped as Jared reached behind Jensen and stroked his still-tender hole.

Jared stilled his fingers. "Are you okay?"

"So okay." He snuggled down into the pillows, lay his head on Jared's chest and closed his eyes. "Now it's your turn."

"My turn, eh?" Jared's voice was low and warm. 

"Um hum," Jensen nodded, sleepily.

"Okay." 

He gathered Jensen in his arms and whispered in his ear, "Quesadilla con carne."

Jensen licked his lips and moaned softly.

Jared kissed Jensen's temple. "Pico de gallo,"

With a flourish on the rolled r, he said, "Queso fresco."

Jensen bundled himself into Jared's arms with a hunger so great it made him want to cry. 

Or order take-out.

  


"On this beautiful, beautiful Thursday afternoon, with hazel blue skies, hazel green waters and the hazel gray clouds high in the stratosphere, some days there's Just Not Enough Perfect Ways to Describe it. Stay safe, Coconut Bay and remember to live well, laugh often, love much and patronize our local establishments because when you buy local you support a dream."

Jensen's Number Ten made an appearance because his Number Ten, where his eyes crinkled and the tip of his tongue showed, was derived from his genuinely happy smile, and today he was genuinely happy.

"And that's a wrap." Felicia keyed into her iPad, looked up. "You know, Jensen, not everybody could make a regular day sound so happy." She smirked. "Or so hazel." 

He shrugged, playing it off. "It's a great description-al word. You want coffee? I want coffee." He broke into a run to his kitchen and carefully sat down by his coffee maker. 

Felicia tip-toed into the kitchen and pulled up one of the breakfast bar stools. "So, is it going to be a hazel day tomorrow, too?" she asked as she sat. "Or maybe Just Another Perfect Beanie-less Night Tonight?"

"Oh, what do you know about beanie-less nights, Red?" Jensen opted for the Keurig rather than the French Press since the Keurig took less than a minute once it was heated up and his French Press took almost ten minutes because he liked to steep it twice. 

"Hey, sorry, the door was unlocked so I thought it might be okay to come in." Jared took the beanie off his head and held it in his fisted hands in front of his chest.

Jensen jumped and grabbed the headwear. "Put that back on! "

"Huh? What?"

"Too late, Jensen. I already saw him take it off." 

"Don't you need to go home now?" Jensen asked Felicia as he sloppily forced the cap back onto Jared's head.

"Nope. DJ and I switched so he could bring Scout again tomorrow morning. So, you guys are stuck with me here all evening long."

Jared turned to Felicia and asked kindly, "Felicia, would it be okay with you if I took Jensen out for a drink and some light fare at Tequila Mockingbird's tonight? I promise to have him home and sober by 9:15." He turned his dewy eyes to her.

"Don't make me come looking for you if you're not back by 9:30."

Jared held up his hand. "I promise."

"Hey," Jensen stepped between them. "You might try asking me if I even _want_ to go out with you."

Jared turned to Jensen and asked kindly, "Jensen, would you like to go out with me for a drink and some light fare at Tequila Mockingbird's…?"

"Shut up, let's go." He took Jared by the elbow and hustled him out the front door. After slamming said door behind him, he crowded Jared up against it, attacking Jared's mouth with his tongue.

Jared rattled the door, turning the tables on Jensen, by turning Jensen. He got Jensen's back up against the door and fairly consumed Jensen's tongue as well as sucking all the air out of his lungs. 

Jared was truly gifted at osculation. 

"I'm not hungry," Jensen panted.

"Neither am I. Is there a back door to your house?"

Jensen felt strange sneaking into his own home, but it was easier than firing Felicia. Jensen reached into a blooming Oleander bush where he had hidden a spare key in an old film canaster. He unlocked the door and put it back under the blossoms. They both took off their shoes and crept inside. 

He felt very naughty, especially the way Jared squeezed his ass as they snuck up the stairs.

"Think we got away with it?" Jared whispered.

Jensen put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. "We'll leave the lights off and just fool around because we have to be very, very quiet."

"Quiet?" Jared squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head vigorously. "I don't think I can do it, Jensen. I don't think I can."

Jensen got in Jared's face. "Man up! You've got to buck up and do me, mister. No noise! And if you're good, I'll return the favor."

"So bossy," Jared said as he tackled Jensen to the bed. As quietly as he could, Jared proceeded to successfully follow orders. Twice.

And he still got Jensen home by 9:23.

  


"This is the time of year when the days grow longer and longer and even longer. The humidity gets so thick that your eyes water and it's hard to breathe. Your skin perspires as the summer sun heats your body up, causing beads of salty sweat to drip from your hairline. All the while bulbous white clouds are waiting to burst into sunshine. Remember, Coconut Bay, to make the good times rock and roll 'til the very last drop and don't forget to enjoy the view! Also, always carry a paper fold-up map in your glove compartment because you never know if you get lost whether there will be a signal for your phone's GPS.

"Have a great weekend, see you on JAPMOM—Just Another Perfect MOnday Morning" Jensen went back to his tried and true Number Four before the three, two, one…

"And that's a wrap, Jensen." DJ made a check mark on his clip board, not looking up. "That was quite a weather wrap up." He coughed into his hand. "Good advice about the map."

"Thanks." His cell phone chimed. He smirked as he picked it up expecting it to be a message from Jared. Jensen's face fell, his skin drained of color and his hands began to shake.

"What's wrong, Jense?" DJ said, alarmed. "What is it?"

"It's Ms. Huffman." He turned his phone so DJ could see. "She wants to see me first thing Monday morning." 

DJ put on a brave face. "It's probably nothing. I mean, of course it's nothing, how can it be anything? You're our Just About Perfect Weatherman, but to be safe, practice your Number Two. I know she likes that one."

There was a crash from the kitchen and the happy yelping of a miniature poodle. DJ ran out the door while Jensen worked on getting his dimples to show.

  


Jensen moved the curser over the map, writing down wind velocities, air and water temperatures and studying various statistics. He was at his Upstairs Weather Central on Saturday afternoon with his phone on speaker. "How long before your program is up and running at the station, Jay?"

"We are _smokin'_ , Jensen. Even though it doesn't work yet, the program _feels_ ready, like it's waiting for that right executable. We couldn't find anything wrong in the test data so we're close to launch count down. Of course, I still have to hash out a few small fixes and add some applets because right now, _this_ can't do _that_ , and the start-up module _might_ need some tweaking, but as far as we can tell there is no virus in the application software or interface format."

"You're beginning to zone out, aren't you?"

'Yeah, maybe."

"I'll leave you to it, then. When you come up for air, give me a call. I mean, if you want to." Jensen was going for the _hail fellow well met_ tone of voice but was afraid he just sounded pathetic.

Jared's voice came back softly, "Of course, I want to call you. I want you to experience my bulbous hazel clouds shooting sunshine."

"Shut up." 

"Never. Gotta go, got a date with a ghost in the machine. Love you, bye." *click*

_Love you, bye._

_**Love you, bye?**_

Jensen dropped his mouse. What the hazel hell does that mean, love you, bye?

Does that mean that Jared loves him? That's what 'love you, bye,' means, doesn't it? Does he love me? Do I love him? 

Well, do ya, punk?

Jensen whispered, " _Love_ you, too." He tried again. "(ahem) Love you, _too_!" And then, "Love _you_ , too."

He was surprised to find that it got easier and easier to say. "Love you, too, Jay." "Love you, Jared." "I love you, Jared, bye."

He was determined to try it out sometime. Maybe. 

Sort of.

He didn't know.

He shook his head and returned to his numbers. Hurricane Baby had altered course and built up a little steam, but she was still not destined to hit their little swatch of southern Florida. He ran a series of simulations with the new figures and no matter how he ran them he could only get one or two pale spaghetti strands to come close to Coconut Bay. 

This was good news. Actually, this was _no_ news, because according to Jensen's data, Baby was going to be a bust of a storm. Even though she was churning the waters in the Atlantic pretty good right now, if she made landfall at all, whether in the Bahamas, Cuba, or Florida, she wouldn't stay long before blowing out to sea and dying a quick and peaceful death. Truthfully, Jensen didn't think she would see land at all. The most drama would be her veering away from the massive high-pressure system currently cutting across the Western Hemisphere west to east.

That would be kind of fun to watch. He smiled to himself, which reminded him…

He pulled a lighted mirror from his desk drawer and turned it on. Jensen gave the mirror his easy Number Three, cocked his head to the right and turned it into his Number Six. Remembering his meeting with Alaina on Monday, he did some deep breathing, some heavy jaw exercises, licked his lips and shot a dazzling Number Two into the glass.

And dear God, it was beautiful.

  


"Good Monday morning, Ms. Huffman. You're looking lovely this morning." Jensen didn't wait and immediately unloaded his Number Two on her.

"Jensen, sit." Huffman pointed to the chair using her ever-present Sharpie.

Jensen thought he felt his face crack as he held his dimples in place. "You wanted to see me, Ma'am?"

'Hurricane, Jensen."

"Pardon me?"

Alaina tossed Jensen a copy of Sunday's Nassau Guardian.

" _Hurricane_ , Jensen." She Sharpied the headline for emphasis. It read:

** Hurricane Baby. Heading This Way? **

_The National Weather Service has reported that Category 1 hurricane, Baby, the second named storm of the season, now has newly recorded sustained winds of 90 miles per hour, and gusts up to 110 miles per hour. The course of this storm has changed trajectory and is now on a west north westerly path in the Atlantic. The storm is too far out to predict landfall with any certainty. Hurricane watches are being issued for the Turks and Caicos Islands, Nassau and the Bahamas and as far north as Southern Florida. Baby is expected to strengthen to a Category 2 by tomorrow afternoon._

"See?" Alaina poked the page. "Hurricane."

"I've been tracking Hurricane Baby, Ms. Huffman, and I can say with near certainty that Baby will not affect us."

"How do you know?" She drew a big, black question mark on the newspaper.

"Because I have plotted out several dozen scenarios for this hurricane, and what will most likely happen is that Baby will veer northward, gain strength and speed to make it a Cat 2 or 3, skirt the Keys, bounce off of Miami and head towards Bermuda where it will quickly deteriorate into a tropical storm."

"You're sure?" She raised her eyebrows. 

"Pretty sure." He tried his Number Two on her again but it came across more like his Number Eight. "I'm really almost sure."

She snorted un-daintily. "I'm not. It's news. Report it."

"But Ms. Huffman, I don’t want to upset the viewers by making them think they'll be hit by a hurricane."

"News, Jensen. Weather is news." She stabbed the _Nassau Guardian_ leaving long, black streaks across the page. "Report it." 

"I won't lie." His Number Two/Eight turned to stone. "I won't. I'll report it, but I'll report it accurately."

She snorted again, this time through her nose, which was kind of gross even though she was a beautiful woman in her own creepy way. 

"Okay. Fair. But add drama."

"I won't lie."

"Hurricanes are _dramatic_." She stared him down.

"Okay, I'll report the drama of hurricanes but not Baby, unless she becomes a real threat. Which she won't."

"Again, fair." Alaina turned away from Jensen and toward her computer screen, an obvious dismissal.

Jensen stood to leave but her voice stopped him short. "Oh, and Jensen. No more Weather Sexcasting, even though the paper map was a good idea."

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, no, ma'am." 

He hurried out and snicked the door shut behind him. 

He was dismayed that he had to embellish a storm that was going to miss them by several hundred miles. He was shocked to hear Huffman utter over ten words in a row. He was surprised that his Number Two and/or Eight didn't have the effect he wanted. He was glad that at least two people liked his advice on a paper map for the glove box.

Jensen walked through the studio. Since he was still broadcasting the weather from his house, he took advantage of his time here by swinging by the IT bullpen. 

The darkly ominous signs from before had been taken down and new ones were taped up:

~~*~~*~~

**_All the cattle are standing like statues! All the cattle are standing like statues!_ **

**Why do you build me up, buttercup, just to let me down?**

_I'm a gentleman, gentleman of leisure. Let me take my time, bet you I can please ya_

~~*~~*~~

Jensen just shook his head. 

He poked his head inside the first cubicle. Chad's ever-present parrot-head cap was askew; he was studying his iPad, singing what sounded like gibberish to himself, and then: "But there's this one particular harbor, so far but yet so near, where I see the days as they fade away and finally disappear."

Chad had a surprisingly pleasant singing voice.

Jensen knocked loudly on the cubicle wall. 

Chad looked up and pulled out his ear buds.

Jensen raised his hand in greeting. "Hello, it's Jensen the Weatherman, requesting permission to come aboard."

Chad's face beamed. "Permission granted, matey. What brings ye here? Is it to see our Cap'n Jaybird?"

"Um, yes?"

"Sorry, Weatherman. Jay's in the zone and can't come out and play."

"That's what I was afraid of." Jensen felt his face blush. "I thought I'd come by and check."

"Wait! _Wait!_ " Osric came bounding in. "I have this! I have _this_." He waved a sealed, white envelope up and down in the air. " _This_ , Chad." 

"Let's see it." He tore it open. "Oh, looks like it's for you Jenbird." Chad handed the note to Jensen.

Jenbird?

Chad leaned over his shoulder as Jensen read Jared's handwriting: _**If Jensen shows up and I'm in the zone, show him in anyway. Tell him I promise not to act weird.**_.

"Jared says he won't act weird," Chad said. "Come on, Osric will take you."

"Thanks, uh, Chadbird."

Chad guffawed as they left the room.

"Jared's a _genius_ , did you know that?" Osric asked.

"I knew he was smart and talented. He's nice to me."

"He's a genius with code, he's a genius with business, he a genius with people and he's nice to everybody," Osric aimed his thumb at his own chest. "Even _me_." He smiled. "Believe it or not, I had a hard time finding a job even though I'm super smart. Like, _super_ smart. Nobody wanted me but Jared and Misha. They said I could always work for them. They're great. They're in here. See ya!" Osric bounded away.

Jared was a genius and nice to everyone. Befriending, and employing odd, frenetic Osric made Jared even that much more endearing. Jared might almost be perfect. Jensen rolled his eyes to himself.

He looked inside the office door and saw Jared and Misha, forehead to forehead in deep conversation. Jared's eyes were closed and his cap was off. Misha had one hand on the back of Jared's neck and the other stroking up and down his left arm. 

At that moment, Jensen realized that he'd never experienced jealousy before. A spike of pure possessiveness shot up his spine, almost bringing him to his knees. Not to mention the overwhelming desire to take a bar stool and smash Misha into a bloody pulp. 

Huh.

Maybe he kinda loved Jared after all.

They were obviously sharing a private moment. Jensen really didn't want to intrude so he backed away. 

"It doesn't mean anything. Touch helps Jared when he's in the zone. You can go back in. He'll want to see you." Black lace-up biker boots, black fishnet stockings, black mesh gloves, black mini pencil dress with bell sleeves, and the ever-present red PMC logo pin was affixed to the hood sewn onto the back of her dress. Genevieve was adorable.

"How do you know he'll want to see me?" 

A mysterious smile ghosted Genevieve's darkened lips before she clomped away.

"Jensen?" Jared's eyes were tired but his dimples showed no sign of fatigue. "Jensen!" And suddenly he was engulfed in a bear hug and held tight. 

Jensen read once that an Anaconda kills its prey by squeezing them a little tighter every time the prey exhaled so when they went to breathe in again, they took in less and less oxygen until they suffocated. It was only when little black dots danced in front of Jensen's eyes that he tapped Jared to let him go.

"Is everything all right?" Jensen gasped. 

"Getting there. I mean, mostly. I mean, yes. I mean, I'm glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you, too." Jensen breathed in two deep breaths, in case Jared went for him again. "So, is your software rockin'?"

"There's still a glitch or two, but Misha knows how to fix them. He'll get it to work. He's really talented, and a great programmer." Jared sighed deeply. "He's a good friend when times get tough. Thank God for him."

Jensen felt that jealous streak zip through him again. 

What the fuck?

"I might love you." Jensen clapped a hand over his mouth.

Jared paused and tilted an ear. His eyes glinted mischievously. "Say what?"

"Nothing. I just wanted—I came by to see how you were. I mean, since I had to be here and see Ms. Huffman and all. You want lunch? We should go get lunch. How 'bout we go to Thai Tanic for, you know Thai food?"

"You might what? Love me? Is that what you said?"

"No."

"Are you sure," Jared invaded every inch of Jensen's personal space, "because it sounded like that's what you said."

"I don't know. Maybe." Jensen shook his head. "I don't know."

Misha popped his head out of the office. He reached for Jared's hand saying, "Jay, darling, I have something for you to see."

"Yes! Yes, that's what I said. Yes."

Jared smiled, and with his eyes on Jensen said, "Mish, I'll see what you have later. I'm taking a lunch break with Jensen."

"Do you think now's the time?" Misha keyed into his iPad. "We're on the brink of a break-through."

"Yes." Jared stared at Misha in silent communication. "I do."

"I understand. As you wish." Misha's head popped back in.

"Shall we go?" Jared held his arm out for Jensen to take.

"I don't know." Jensen took in another breath. "I don't know. Now, _I'm_ acting weird. Why am I acting weird? Aren't you going to ask me why I'm acting weird?"

Jared shook his head no. "I don't care if you're acting weird. I want lunch with you."

"It's not lunch time, and I doubt that Thai Tanic is open at 10:25 in the morning."

"It's not." Jared nudged his arm at Jensen.

Jensen waited until Jared nudged again before taking it. "I suppose we could go to Lox Stock and Bagel for a late breakfast."

"No, I want Thai for lunch."

"Then what do you want to do until the restaurant opens?" Jensen was confused.

"What do I want to do right now?" Jared asked.

'Well, yeah."

"I want to see if it's true, that you might love me."

"What?"

"I want to find out if you might, indeed, love me." Jared spoke slowly, as if Jensen needed slow to understand. Apparently, he did.

"You do?" Jensen's heartbeat revved up several notches and those black spots were threatening to make a come-back.

"Yes, I do, because I might love you, too."

"You think you might?" Jensen asked again.

Jared put his beanie back on. "I think I might. Let's go see."

Jensen smiled wide and Number-less. "Alrighty, then."

Light applause emitted from Genevieve and Katy. Katy, who was tapping her iPad and snapping her gum, applauded by slapping one hand against her left thigh. Genevieve's mesh gloves muted her clapping.

"Why are they clapping? Jensen snuggled a little closer as they walked out arm-in-arm.

"They're clapping because they're happy for us." 

"I guess they've never been to Lox Stock and Bagel, or Thai Tanic's." 

"That's not why they're happy for us."

Jensen patted Jared's arm. "I know."

  


Jensen opened his front door with Jared at his heels. The house appeared empty, but from the back yard, there were the playful sounds of DJ and Scout romping amongst the Gumbo Limbo trees.

"Here, Scout, fetch!" Pause. "Good _boy_." Pause. "Here, Scout, fetch!" Pause. "Good _boy_."

"Let me handle DJ," Jared said. 

"Here, Scout, fetch!"

Jensen followed Jared out into the back yard. As soon as DJ saw Jared in the doorway he turned to Scout, excitedly.

"Hey, look who's here! Lookit Scout. Lookit who's here. Do you see him, Scoutie? Do you see Jared? Huh, boy? D'you see him?"

It looked to Jensen like Scout shrugged.

"Hi DJ. Hey, Scout, how're doing? How's this good boy? Who's a good boy? Scout's a good boy." Jared sat on the ground where Scout promptly placed his nose in Jared's crotch. "There's a good dog. What a good dog."

Jared scratched Scout's hind end until Scout's rear leg jittered with glee. "What's that, Scout?" Jared asked, looking into Scout's eyes. "What's that you’re saying? It's what?" 

Scratch, scratch, kick kick. 

"It's hot outside? Oh, I know it is. It's a hot day, isn't it, boy? It's a real hot day, isn't it?"

DJ leaned over to Jensen, "Did Scout actually say something to Jared?"

This time it was Jensen who shrugged.

"What's that? Oh, yes, Scout, I know what you want, good boy. Oh yes, I do. You're hot, aren't you? Isn't that right, Scout? You wish, what? That you could go for a swim? Is that what you want, boy?"

Scratch, scratch, kick, kick, kickkickkickkick.

"He really likes to swim, he really does," DJ blurted. "Remember Jared? Remember when I lost him and you found him in your pool? These black poodles get really hot in the Florida sun."

"I know. Hey, DJ, it's only 10:45, Jensen doesn't need to be on the air until almost 1:00." Jared reached into his pocket. "Here are the keys to my house. Why don't you drive Scout over there and let him cool off in the pool?"

" _Really_?" DJ looked at Jared like Jared sprouted angel wings and a halo.

"Sure. Jensen and I were going to be sticking around here, looking at weather data. You might as well make use of the pool. And don't worry, if you run a teeny bit late, I know how to set up for a live broadcast."

"I won't be late! I promise. I've got it all set up and ready. That—this—Jared." DJ fell into Jared's arms.

Funny. Jensen didn't even feel like poking DJ in the eye, much less pummeling him into dust like he did Misha.

"Here, go on. Have fun." He gave DJ the keys, and then cocked his head. "What's that, Scout? You want to go _right now_? Is that what you want?"

DJ looked at Scout. "Do you, boy?"

"He does," Jared said. "Off you go."

"Thank you, Jared. Just, thank you."

"You're welcome, DJ. Just, you're welcome."

DJ leashed Scout and they both scampered out. DJ's voice sailed in, "I won't be late."

Three, two, one, Jensen dragged Jared inside, slammed and bolted the doors.

"I'm not going away this time." Jensen walked up to Jared. "I'll be here with you instead of in the clouds at the Biglow Canyon wind farm."

"Okaay," Jared drew out, but then was attacked by Jensen's lips with overwhelming enthusiasm.

Jared sucked and licked into Jensen's mouth, holding Jensen's head at just the right angle for…

"Wait a minute." Jared retracted his tongue.

" _What now?_ " Jensen was on the verge of tears. Again. Shit.

"I'm not sure what Biglow Canyon means." Jared looked at Jensen. "What _does_ that mean?"

Jensen took a calming breath. He took Jared's hand. "Our first time, I made myself relax by letting my mind drift away. One of the places I drifted to was the Biglow Canyon wind farms in Oregon. I'm sorry, now, that I did, because that made it so I wasn't fully present when we made love. I came back for the good stuff, though."

"Jensen."

"But today, I'm not leaving. I'm never leaving again when you're making love to me."

"I like the sound of that." Jared's soft voice murmured. "I like the sound of everything about that. But, if drifting to the wind farm made our first time easier on you, I can't be anything but glad." 

"You really are almost perfect." Jensen said.

"And I really might be in love with you," Jared pulled him forward. "But I still think we should go upstairs and find out."

They didn't have all day, in fact, they didn't even have all morning, but Jensen took his time leading Jared into his bedroom, carefully moving the myriad of pillows out of the way, and pulling the sheets down. Jared went into the bathroom and retrieved some items that Jensen assumed were lube and rubbers.

The sun was shining on this perfect Monday morning, and Jensen opened the shades welcoming the summer sunlight into his bedroom. He didn't even bother reprimanding himself for his own cheesy clichés. 

Jared returned with the supplies and Jensen sat them both down on the edge of the bed. The first thing Jensen took off was Jared's knit cap. 

"Why do you wear this?"

Jared winced and turned away. "You'll think I'm nuts."

"I won't. I really won't."

"I wear it because," Jared huffed a breath, but continued. "I wear it because, it lets me hide. Look at me. I'm big and tall and loud and I'm the first person you see when you enter a room. Sometimes, a lot of times, it's too much for me. I'm the center of attention whether I like it or not. Certain expectations are made of me, and they can't all be true. The beanie gives me a shield, and if it's too hot, then my hair falling in my face gives me cover."

He looked uncomfortable. "It sounds crazy, but it works for me."

"I hope when you're with me, you never feel you have to wear it," Jensen said, simply. "But I'll understand and respect it if you do."

Jared scrunched the knit hat into a ball and threw it in the general direction of the bathroom. 

Jensen gave a little crooked smile, smoothed Jared's hair away from his face and said, "You're very handsome like this."

"Aww, you're just saying that because you like me."

He leaned in and kissed Jared gently. "It's true. I like you." He slid his fingers under the red and white PMC shirt and helped Jared lift it over his head. 

"And you were jealous of Misha," Jared removed his gray athletic tee shirt.

His chest was exposed to the air conditioning in Jensen's bedroom, and when Jensen pushed the remote to turn on the fan, tiny goose bumps mottled Jared's golden skin. Jared, in turn, removed Jensen's button-down and tee shirt, carefully folding them over the back of a chair.

"Admit it," Jared said gently tugging on Saint Medardus to get Jensen closer. "You were jealous."

"Maybe, a little, maybe." Jensen stuttered.

Naked chest, to naked chest, Jensen quickly removed his slacks and briefs, folding them to join his shirts. Jared simply pulled off his jeans and kicked them away.

Jensen was pleased to see that Jared went commando.

"You have nothing to be jealous of." Jared spread his arms wide displaying his nakedness proudly. "I'm all yours."

"Shit, Jared. _You_." Jensen ran his hand down Jared's chest. " _You_."

"Yes," Jared said, pulling Jensen close, " _me_."

They fell into Jensen's bed with a big, fluffy impact. Jared wasted no time sucking the life out of Jensen's mouth, and Jensen reciprocated by getting his hands on every bit of flesh Jared had to offer. 

Jared kissed down Jensen's neck. "You," kiss, "are so," kiss, "sexy," kiss, "hot and," kiss, kiss, "so goddamn wonderful." 

Jensen rolled on his back, looked up and spread his legs. "I want to see you. I want to watch you fuck me."

Jared caught his breath and lay between Jensen's spread knees and hard cock. He kissed down Jensen's body and mumbled, "Not happening."

Jensen's back bowed into a perfect arc. His supersensitive skin, cooled by the fan, shivering at the touch of Jared's tongue. Wait, what? 

"Wait, what?" Jensen shook his head. "Jared, _what_?"

"You heard right; I'm not going to fuck you." He smiled, knowingly.

"You're going to make love to me, right?"

"Right."

"But you'll make love to me by fucking me, right?" Jensen hoped he wasn't misunderstanding.

"Right," Jared buried his nose in the curly hairs surrounding Jensen's fully erect cock.

"Okay, then," Jensen said. "Don't scare me like that."

"You never have to be scared with me." He firmly grasped Jensen's erection and licked around the head, shaft, pubic hair and balls until all of Jensen's sensitive areas were dripping wet.

Jensen's hands scrabbled at Jared's shoulders, leaving light pink nail marks down his arms. Jared's tongue licked lower and lower until he reached Jensen's most intimate area. All of Jensen's nerve endings fired at once, and his upper body practically jolted off the bed. 

"Jay, Jay. I've never, I mean, nobody has ever," Jensen's words turned into a soft moan as Jared's tongue opened him up. "Nobody has ever done this for me." He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the feeling of Jared's tongue invading him, prodding him, _devouring_ him. Jensen grasped his own shaft to slow down the reaction his cock was having to Jared's tongue.

Jared's tongue retreated, and Jensen felt Jared licking up his inner thigh. Right one first and then the left. 

"You are gorgeous," Jared whispered. "You're covered with a light sheen of sweat and the sun is making your skin glow." Jared kissed up Jensen's chest to his left nipple. "You look otherworldly, Jensen. No human could be as sublime," he used the flat of his tongue to lave the hard nub of the left nipple, "as transcendent, or as perfect as you."

"You," Jensen gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

One of Jared's wet fingers pressed into Jensen, while a large, wet hand took over Jensen's cock.

Jensen was over stimulated, and his breathing was erratic. "Jesus, Jared, holy Mother." 

Two, then three fingers entered the breach and Jensen knew his eyes were damp when Jared asked over and over, "Are you okay? Is this okay?"

Jensen grabbed hold of Jared's shoulders and said with his eyes wide, "I do love you. No maybe about it."

Jared's body quaked, whether from sensation or emotion, Jensen didn’t know. Jared reared up kissed Jensen's mouth hard before he removed his fingers and rolled on a condom. "I do, too Jensen. I do, too." And on the last "I do, too." Jared pushed into Jensen, and Jensen came.

Jensen read once about this post orgasm phenomenon called "la petite mort." Basically, it's where the sex is so good you pass out after. He thought it was an urban legend until he felt Jared wiping his face and sponging him down murmuring to him softly to wake up; that he had to be on the air in an hour. 

"Shit, Jared, I'm sorry," Jensen said, softly. "I didn't mean for that to happen I guess I didn't stay fully present this time either, but, man, that was so much better than the wind farm."

"I'm glad," Jared chuckled, "You certainly seemed to be enjoying it before you fainted."

"I didn't faint. I was rendered unconscious by power of your sexual prowess." Jensen said, brightly. "That makes it okay, right? I mean, if it was your prowess's fault?"

"It's all okay. Everything's okay." Jared cradled Jensen's head in his large hand, and kissed him until Jensen didn't know where he stopped and Jared began. 

"Jared, I need to," Jensen stuttered to a stop. Jared was sweating, his hair was damp, hanging in his face and there were sheet marks on his face. He was too gorgeous for words. 

"I hope you're not going to take back the 'I love you' because that would break my heart."

"Nope, I meant it. I was going to say I need to shower before DJ gets back and I have to report on the burgeoning, beanie-less skies. I don't know why it feels like I'm being naughty by having sex in my own house with my own, my own, person of choice?"

Jared chuckled. "Have you stopped to think that this guilt you're feeling might have something to do with us having sex on WBB's time? Hmm?" Jared paused. "We are both so naughty!"

"At least I'm not playing video games." Jensen said, lifting himself off the bed. "Well, if we go down, we go down together."

Jared lit up. "Yes! We should try that next, but we ought to wait for the week-end when there's more time."

Jensen smirked and headed for the bathroom. He opened the door and turned to Jared. "Well, are you coming?"

Jared bolted upright, jumped off the bed, grabbed Jensen around the waist and shoved them both into the bathroom. "Yes, and so will _you_ in a minute."

With the hot water beating on his back and Jared on his knees in front of him warming his cock, it was all Jensen could do to keep from singing, " _Oh, sweet mystery of life at last I've found you_."

  


Jared finished brushing his teeth as Jensen sat at his weather computer.

"Find anything new, weather-wise?" Jared asked from the bedroom doorway.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

Jensen sighed, "Before you go back to the station, I want to show you something."

"Didn't I just see everything?" Jared wiggled his eyebrows.

"Shut up. Can I show you something or not?" He blushed as he flipped through his weather maps.

Jared pulled up a rolling chair and sat. "Does it have something to do with the storm in the Atlantic?"

"Yes, it does and no, it doesn't."

"Well, that's pretty clear." Jared stared that the maps. "What did you find? Something other than the Category 2 hurricane all the stations are reporting on?"

"I know, Baby's all the rage, and it's a waste of time, because Baby isn't coming anywhere near us. Except that Alaina says that hurricanes are dramatic and people love the drama and excitement hurricanes bring to their drab, dreary days, so she ordered me to keep reporting on the storm."

"She said that?"

"Well, not in so many words, but she did tell me to hype it up even though we are in no danger of experiencing any hurricane winds."

"How do you know we're not? Even the Weather Channel hasn't totally decided on a course."

"I'll show you." Jensen clicked through several charts. "What I'm seeing here is a massive high-pressure system, gaining strength and pushing from the west. See it?"

Jared stared at the screen. "Yes, sort of, but only because you know how to spot it and show me. What does that have to do with Baby?"

"I've run these models hundreds of times and what the majority of the outcomes are, is that Baby will turn slightly north and approach Florida from the Atlantic side, not cross over to the Gulf side where we are. When she gets there, this high pressure," he circled his cursor, "will have ramped up from its run across the overheated southern United States and literally push Baby out to sea. She may rub up against the coast, but she won't make landfall."

"Why won't she make landfall?" Jared bent in low to look at the squiggles on the screen.

Jensen pointed with his cursor. "By the time Baby gets close, probably Wednesday afternoon or evening, the northern crest of this high-pressure dome will be pushing past the east coast of Florida and bumping the hurricane out to sea."

"Well, it is very dramatic, and kind of fun to watch since none of us are in danger." Jared looked at Jensen. "That's a good thing, right? Why are you looking like that's not a good thing?"

"No, it is, it is, it's just that," Jensen bit his bottom lip. "I've been worried about these squall lines in front of this strong high-pressure system to the south."

"Which ones?" Jared leaned in again.

Jensen swirled the cursor to Tempico, Mexico, on the Mexican coast, north of Mexico City and south of Monterrey. "There are some heavy-duty wind storms gearing up and moving west _with_ the high-pressure system."

"So, what, like tornadoes, maybe?"

"Maybe," Jensen said. "But more like high velocity thunderstorms with extremely high wind gusts."

"Oh, just thunderstorms? We get them all the time, here. You know that."

"But these are different. The unusually warm water and air temperatures in front of this high-pressure system are pumping a lot of energy into these storms. Once the high-pressure front crosses the Gulf, towards _us_ , the warm water temps will add fuel to the storm systems in front of it. These storms will be forming and forming and coming in waves. The closer they get, the stronger the gusts. The winds that go with these storms aren't the rotary type like hurricanes or tornadoes, they're thunderstorm-producing straight lines winds, and, Jay, these squall lines and storm waves are heading right for us."

"But Jensen, they're only windy summer thunderstorms."

"No, they're not. Remember I told you that there were storm systems as powerful as Cat 1 and 2 hurricanes or as dangerous as F2 tornadoes? Well, I think this might be them."

"Can they be dangerous?"

"Yeah. They can be very dangerous."

"Is it called something? What is it called?"

"When you guys said you were checking "weather data," DJ made quoty fingers, "I thought it was a ruse to get me out of the house so you could have sex." DJ laughed and shook his wet head. As if on cue, Scout shook his damp fur and scraped up against Jensen's chair.

"Hang on, boy, I need to look good for the camera." Jensen stood and turned to Jared. "Derecho."

"Fix your makeup, Jensen, you're looking a little flushed. You smell good, though. You're on in ten," DJ said. 

"I'm not wearing make-up."

"Thanks again, Jared. Your pool is the greatest. I had to fish Scout out of the deep end five times, because he didn't want to come out, and it almost made me late."

"You didn't need to worry," Jared said looking at Jensen's maps. "I really do know how to set up a broadcast, but we're glad you're back."

DJ pushed Jensen out the bedroom door. "Now you're on in seven," he laughed.

From the hallway Jensen raised his voice, " Look it up, Jared. Derecho. Derecho."

"Gesundheit, gesundheit," said DJ.

~~*~~*~~


	4. Part Four

~~*~~*~~

"Ms. Huffman, while we’re forcing everyone's attention to the east, watching Hurricane Baby's benign approach, to our west, serious storms are developing that _will_ affect our area. I believe we need to concentrate our viewers on _these_ storms and keep them up to date so they can prepare properly."

Alaina perused the materials regarding derecho storms that Jensen handed her before sitting.

"Thunderstorms? Not dramatic. This," she unfurled the latest edition of the  
Nassau Guardian and poked the top story with her marker, "is."

 

**All Eyes are on Hurricane Baby**

_Hurricane Baby is officially a Category 2 storm with sustained winds of 98 miles per hour and wind gusts up to 115. The storm's course has turned sharply northward toward south Florida with her eye on Miami. However, a large high-pressure system, coming across North America from the west, is likely to impede this storm's progress, possibly causing it to veer away from the United States completely. But right now, Baby has her sights set on Miami, Florida, leaving us here in Nassau and the Bahamas breathing a sigh of relief._

"Yes, Ms. Huffman, but see where they mention the high-pressure system? That ring of high-pressure will chase the hurricane off shore, but the weather coalescing in front of it will create dangerous wind and rain storms." Jensen pounded the desk softly. "Alaina, the public needs to know what's coming. There is a potential for real danger."

Alaina looked at the _Guardian_ and then at Jensen's reports. 

"Potential? When?"

"Sometime Wednesday, day after tomorrow, probably nightfall."

"Will the hurricane be gone by then?"

"No, it won't be gone, but it'll be weakening after it's forced into another trajectory."

"Explain that."

Jensen tapped the desk with his index finger. "By Wednesday night, the edge of the high-pressure front will be meeting up with Baby's outer winds. The low pressure of the hurricane will try to slip under the High, but can't get through because this High is stronger. As the high-pressure veers east, northeast, Baby will skirt Florida and boomerang out to the Atlantic, where the waters are cooler, robbing it of energy and turning it into a tropical storm. Meanwhile, _we here,_ are left picking up the pieces of the damaging derecho winds that blew our houses down!"

She stared at the newspaper, stabbing the front page with black dots. "Boomeranging hurricanes are more interesting than windy thunderstorms."

"Ms. Huffman, please."

"I'll look into it." She looked up at Jensen, maybe for the first time ever in Jensen's memory. "I will. I'll talk to the execs. I'll tell them what you told me, and see how they want us to handle it."

Maybe she would, maybe they wouldn't. What he needed was Jared's team and DJs help, because these were more than just windy thunderstorms. These were intense storms that had the potential for creating real damage. They didn't know it yet, but his WBB viewers needed his help.

  


"Tomorrow?"

"Night. Tomorrow night."

"And where will you be?"

"Here, broadcasting from upstairs. Can you do it, Jay?"

The iPhone was silent on Jensen's end until Jared asked, "How sure are you about this?"

"I am positive."

More silence then, "Yes. We can do it. We will do it."

Jensen breathed out forcefully. "Thank God. Okay, when DJ gets here, I'll fill him in."

"What if he doesn't go for it?"

"I'll lock him in the downstairs bathroom and call Felicia."

"Well, good. I didn't realize you had a backup plan." Jared sounded like he was being playful, but Jensen knew that this undertaking could cost them all, including himself, their jobs. Maybe forever. 

"I'll record for the looping tonight," Jared said. "Can I come over after? It could be late."

Alaina had gotten back to Jensen by texting him a picture of a sad face, and the underlined words: _**EXECTS SAID NO.**_ With a softer touch she wrote: **sorry**

Now, though, there was more on the line than just their jobs. Jensen ran and reran the vectors and velocities, and found that the downburst clusters and micro bursts that made up this potential derecho storm system, could give birth to sustained winds of up to 115 mph and gusts up to 130. These are the windspeeds of a Category 3 hurricane or an F2 tornado.

This system was now roaring its way across the Gulf of Mexico aiming for the sleepy little city of Coconut Bay.

"I don't care how late you are. I want you here."

"Bossy, bossy."

"Jared, I know I'm asking a lot, and I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure. I, oh hell, I really appreciate the trust you have in me that you're willing to do this."

"Hey, Jensen?"

"Yes?"

"I know. I'll be over late tonight. Love you, bye." 

*click*

Jensen hoped he'd get another chance to stay away from the wind farms and avoid la petite mort because Jared was risking everything on Jensen's word alone. 

"Love you, too, Jay," he said into the air. "Love you, too."

  


Jensen was pacing in his master bedroom when Jared knocked softly on the door frame.

"How did you get in?" Jensen rushed over and hugged him.

"Key in the Oleander." Jared kissed the top of his head.

"Jay, if there was any other way, believe me I wouldn't ask you. I hate that I can't do it on my own. I hate that you have to risk your jobs because of me."

Jared looked Jensen square in the eye. "If you tell me that lives and property are in danger, and that we can warn them? We have to do it. Remember, I'm the kid in the storm cellar hugging my dogs, and we barely had enough warning to get there."

Jensen was speechless. Partially because he got a flash of a very young Jared, huddling, terrified in an underground bunker while his family fought to keep the wind from blowing them away. Also because of the profound faith Jared had in him.

"Okay, what's the game plan?" Jensen sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him. 

"Since you calculated that the weather will reach critical mass tomorrow night, we'll need to get you solidly on the air without Security messing us up. To get your broadcast live, all of Alona and Rob's feed will have to be switched off, including the cameras. To make the audio switch, I recorded portions of Alona and Rob's newscast this evening to loop it through the station's sound system to make it sound like they are still broadcasting after we cut their feed. It will take less than a minute to cut to you. The cameras going dark will be a little trickier. 

"During the switch, the lights on Camera One, the stationary camera, will go out for that half minute, so whoever is on the air will see that camera wink out. We'll get the camera's lights on again, even though the camera's offline, but for that few seconds we'll need a diversion. The manned camera feed will already be disabled, but with the red light on and the camera operating properly the cameraman won't know his camera is dark to the air. Your feed will go live, but audio only. It'll be a lot harder to kick you off the air if you're weathercast is routed through the studio than from your bedroom."

"Wow, Jared, that's amazing." Jensen's hand shook as he ran his fingers through his hair. "What's the diversion going to be?"

"Not what, but _who_?" Jared grinned. "Big Jim from _Big Jim's Sports Spot with Big Jim_ will be breaking into the on-air news with some imaginary sports emergency that he _has_ to take to the airwaves with. He'll see Camera One shut off, and keep talking until it lights up again. By then, we'll be split seconds away to getting you up and running."

"Big Jim would do that?" Jensen breathed, "For me?"

"For you and Coconut Bay." He wrapped his arms around Jensen. "If I wasn't so sure I was your person of choice, I’d be jealous of Big Jim because he thinks awfully highly of you."

"That's great." Jensen tried to keep him emotions intact. "That's great of him to help."

"Well, after my team gets the studio live feed disabled, and your live audio on the air, we'll cut the looping, and continue to outwit the station's Security team to keep you live. That's why we needed the diversion and the looping. If we got caught before you got on the air, they could shut us down, but once I get your broadcast up, we've got the wheel and you're on the air until you tell me it's over."

"Your team is incredible. I can't begin to thank you all."

Jared hugged him close. "At the risk of getting you all jealous, Misha's the one who came up with the coding to keep Security out of the system once you start weathercasting."

Jensen shook his head. "Nope, sorry. I still want to break his nose." He was smiling, but his eyes were sad. "I'll keep a close eye on the storm formations, and as soon as I feel I need to start the warnings, I'll let you know. Right now, I'm thinking it'll be somewhere near the end of the 9:00 News Hour."

Jared's voice became deadly serious. "You need to do something for me, Jensen."

"Anything."

"Listen carefully. If, at any time, you feel that you're in the line of fire, you must end the broadcast and take cover immediately."

"Jay, that's not likely."

"You have to promise me, Jensen, or all bets are off. I know it's not _likely_ that an F2 storm will tear down your street, but you'll be the first to see it if it does. If you do, _promise_ me you'll get to safety."

"What about you?" Jensen was ashamed to think that he hadn't thought of that. "Will you be safe? You won't be able to hear my alerts."

"After your live stream is locked in, it'll take an act of God—or Misha—to get you off the air. We'll all be listening to you at the studio."

"There are windows in Alaina's office." Jensen said. "She'll want to chew you out when she finds out what we've done. Make sure you stay _out_ of her office and _away_ from the windows."

"I will if you will." Jared took his hand.

Jensen squeezed tight. "I will if you will." 

"You will?" Jared's eyes were stern.

"I will."

"Okay, let's go to sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow." Jared lay them both down. Jensen in his soft pajama pants, and Jared in his jeans and tee shirt.

"Jay, thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just tell me you love me."

"I love you."

"Now tell me you'll be safe."

"I'll be safe."

"Then, that's all that matters. But if something does happen, I get the telescoping eyeball."

"Okay. Deal."

  


"We're watching the weather for you, Coconut Bay. Hurricane Baby will be heading out to sea, but there is rough weather expected to arrive here tonight. The National Weather Service has issued thunderstorm watches for our area, but I'm sure they will be issuing severe storm warnings soon. A watch is just that, they're watching the weather. A warning means the danger is imminent. These are very strong, very dangerous storms coming to our area.

"I'll be keeping you up-to-date throughout the day and evening, so stay tuned. Also, make sure you have fresh batteries for your radios and flashlights in case any power outages occur. Stay safe, Coconut Bay, and stay tuned here." Jensen couldn't force a smile even if he wanted to. 

He didn't want to tip his hand and get yanked off the air by the studio executives by being too alarmist, so he kept a low but definite profile on today's weather. Unfortunately, today appeared to be JAPDIP—Just Another Perfect Day In Paradise, so his warnings about stormy weather were pretty much ignored.

Three, two, one, "Okay, Jensen. We're out. You were pretty serious today. What's up?"

DJ flipped a switch and began wrapping a power cord around his arm.

"DJ, I need you to do something for me. If you don't want to, that's cool, but I'd ask you, please don't mess this up."

"What the hell are you talking about?" DJ grinned ear-to-ear.

"Come into the kitchen and we'll talk."

Jensen used his French Press as he laid out the entire plan. DJ was needed at Jensen's to maintain the live audio feed so that the studio could pick up the broadcast. Jensen couldn't be on the air broadcasting weather warnings _and_ maintaining the output by himself. He needed DJ's help.

DJ sat stone silent and tinged green. 

"DJ, are you all right?"

He swallowed, "Yeah. I, I, I've got to make a phone call."

"DJ?"

"No, don't worry. I gotta, you know, get someone to take care of Scout." DJ took in a breath. "I'm with you all the way, Jensen." And he left.

Jensen sat with his head in his hands. Look what he was doing to the people closest to him. He almost wished he didn't know about the damaging winds about to engulf his town, but he knew what he knew, and had to warn them.

"Okay, Jensen. Tell me times and exactly what we need to do."

Jensen brewed another pot of coffee and gave a recap. The color had returned to DJ's face and now he looked determined. 

"DJ, I'm so sorry I have to bring you into this."

"Naw, we're friends and that's what friendship is all about. You know, trust and stuff, and I trust you. Besides, if the bosses at WBB don't understand that there's danger to our town, and you do, Jense, then you need to save us."

"I think I'll get a dog. When this is all over, come with me to the animal shelter and help me pick one out, okay?"

"Absolutely! Play dates! Maybe even agility classes. I heard they were a blast. Wait a minute."

There was steady knocking at the front door. Scout bounded in followed by a somber looking Felicia.

"Well, Weatherman. When do we start?"

  


The goddamn sunshine just didn't let up. The blue skies and hot summer breezes off the Gulf were making a liar out of him. The days were lasting longer and the sun was so bright it was having a hard time setting.

Jensen got some nasty tweets @AckWeather with a # So Where's the Wind? when he continued to broadcast his, and the National Weather Service's, warnings. Even though he was the trusted voice of Coconut Bay's weather, he had to orchestrate his warnings carefully, or they'd stop paying attention all together.

So, they waited. Jensen was glued to his weather monitors, DJ kept the regular live feeds going and Felicia manned the phones, speaking with Jared. It was 8:39 PM and the sun was thinking about setting, when Jensen's heart skipped a beat. All the elements were coming together to form the first shelf cloud. These menacing, low hanging, dark cloud formations marked the creation of the _gust fronts_ of a derecho.

Even though Jensen knew it was coming, seeing the strength of the storms forming in front of his eyes was terrifying

Once these storms got going, they were fast and furious. They traveled fifty to seventy linear miles per hour, so catching them as soon as the conditions were ripe was vital. 

"Red, get Jared on speaker phone." Jensen had only glanced away from his monitors for a second, and the mounting storms gained strength exponentially.

"Jensen?"

"It's go time."

"On it. Give us forty seconds. Countdown starts now."

They were listening to the WBB newsroom on Jensen's open phone when Big Jim's voice boomed through.

"Hey, you idjits, it's Big Jim here from Big Jim's Sport Spot, and I just gotta innerupt this broadcast for an important announcement."

"Are you sure it's time for that, Jim?" Alona's sweet voice asked.

"Well, hell, you _know_ it is, Missy. The Sun Park Wildcats have finally done it! For the first time in Wildcat history…"

Jensen waved his hand, Felicia cut the speaker and put the phone to her ear. After several more seconds, she pointed at DJ and nodded. 

"You ready, Jensen?" DJ asked.

Jensen nodded; eyes glued to the monitor.

"You're on in three, two, one, and _now_."

"This is not a drill. This is Jensen Ackles with an urgent storm warning from the National Weather Service. A derecho storm system with damaging winds and heavy thunderstorms is approaching Coconut Bay. Possible flash flooding, large hailstones and dangerous windstorms carrying tornado strength winds are heading straight for us. Damaging winds will cause trees and large branches to fall, blocking the roadways. Localized power outages are possible. Unsecured home, patio and outdoor objects could become flying projectiles.

"These waves of storms are coming in fast and there is high potential for property damage and serious physical injury. I repeat, this is _not_ a drill.

Jensen's eyes darted across the data coming across his screens.

"Listen up! Residents of the Parkside area of the Bay _take cover immediately_ as winds of, " Jensen checked again, "shit, sustained winds of 85 miles per hour are heading your way. Get away from the windows and move to the lowest and innermost room of your house. Lock the doors and take your portable radio and bunker down. Wait for the all clear." 

Jensen nervously scanned the information streams, watching as the bow echo of the first wave screamed toward Parkside. The next wave was already forming and lining up. Felicia's phone was up to her ear, and the land line phones to Jensen's house were all buzzing.

He took to the air. "Bay Park! Storms are heading _your way now. Hit the deck._ Immediately, and I mean _now_ , get your kids inside and go to the floor. This one's coming in fast and these winds are brutal at," Jensen frantically calculated the speeds, "over 90 miles per hour, and gusts higher than that. Everybody in Bay Park, take cover, _take cover_ , and move as far away from trees and power lines as you can. Stay away from the windows."

Now, the storms were hitting all over. Lightning and thunder occurred at the same time. The skies were wide open and horizontal rain and large hail battered Jensen's house so hard it was tough to be heard without screaming. 

"Coconut Bay, _flash flooding_ is possible. Do not, _do not_ drive through flooded areas or into any standing water. Turn around. If you're caught up in floodwaters, get out of the car and move to higher ground before you get swept away!"

The lights in Jensen's house flickered. Scout cowered under the bed as a new wave formed. Stronger winds were blasting at over 100 miles per hour and aiming—Jensen's breath caught in his throat—aiming straight at Park Dale. Straight at the WBB studio.

"Red! Tell Jared one's coming his way!"

"On it. I've got Chad."

"Chad, there's fins to the left, fins to the right! Keep your heads down and away from the windows. Please, please Jared, if you're listening, take your team and go to the console room and take cover. Stay safe! _Jared_! You promised!" Jensen didn't care if he was on the air, openly concerned about his person of choice. His Jared. 

"Park Dale! You're it. Go inside right now. Hit the ground, get in the bathtub, cover yourself up and stay there. Keep down! _Stay_ down! This wave is strong, with gusts over 100 mph, and that's the power of a Cat 2, and it's aiming right at _you_. Get inside, get down, now, now, _now!"_

He watched the weather cameras and his stomach dropped as the shelf cloud engulfed the television station a little over a mile away. His own house swayed with the force of the derecho winds funneling around him.

"Red, get Jay on the phone, I need to hear he's okay."

"Working on it."

"Shit. Shit. Shit! Gulf Beach Park, Gulf Beach Park! Take cover. Take cover _now_. This is _urgent_. Listen to me. _Listen to me!_ If you're in your car, stay in your car and out of the way of power lines and trees. Keep your seatbelts on. Do not, I repeat, _do not_ take shelter under an overpass because the winds and debris get funneled through them. Get your vehicle lower than the road. _Lower_ than the road! If you can't get inside a safe structure, run your car into a ditch and stay belted in. Take cover. Gulf Beach Park, get in the house, away from the windows. Get in the bathtub _at once_ and lock the doors because there are rotational winds heading your way, too. 

"Felicia, have you talked to Jared?"

"Still trying Jensen."

" _Keep_ trying." 

Jensen sought out windspeeds, direction and rotation, extrapolating the next bullseye. His mouth went dry as his eyes locked on the screen. "Felicia, hang up. Get DJ." 

"What?"

"Do it! Winter Park, get ready, the next blast is coming our way. "

Felicia and DJ stood at attention. 

"Okay," Jensen said. "Take all the pillows, the comforters and all the cushions you can carry. Take Scout and go to the middle downstairs bathroom. The bathtub is big enough for the three of you." 

The house was shaking wildly.

"Cover yourselves with the pillows and cushions, lock the door and don't come out until I give the word."

"Jensen? Come _with_ us." Felicia's voice cracked. " _Please_ come with us."

"Soon. You go, _now!_ " He yelled into the mike. "This is bad, Winter Park, we've got 110 mile per hour wind gusts coming at us. This is code red, don't think, _run_. Run inside, stay low and keep low. Stay down and get to cover, immediately, _immediately!_ "

Jensen felt DJ slip something into his pocket. "Get downstairs, DJ!"

"Winter Park!" Jensen shouted. "Winter Park, seek shelter, _now!_ " The whole house quaked. Jensen's roof rattled and he felt the floor cracking. " _Take cover_ in the lowest floor of your house! Innermost room, _away from windows!_ " Glass shattered in his master bedroom, and an ominous groan rose from the roof rafters. The pressure in his ears was sudden and painful, "Move away from trees! Away from _power lines!_ Go, go, _go!"_

A powerful downburst tore through his bedroom. His desktop computer smashed through the window behind him and he felt himself lift from the floor. When he looked up, he saw the sky.

Shit.

  


Jared would later tell Jensen that, over the live stream, he heard glass breaking, metal crunching, and a deafening roar. He swore he heard Jensen gasp before all that was left in the air was static.

  


The first thing Jensen heard was Jared's soft voice. "…because Misha was able to get the WNBC national news in New York City to carry your reporting live, and Osric hacked into the Emergency Broadcast System to get your broadcast out on people's radios, computers and phones— I don't know how he did it, and he probably should be in jail—," Jared stopped to sniff, "we are not only _not_ in trouble, we're kind of heroes, except," here Jared's voice faltered, "except we all know who the real hero is. Can you please, please open your eyes, now?"

Jensen would have liked to, but he didn't quite remember how. He was in a stupidly soft place, he felt no pain, and Jared was here. All was well. The storm must be over. 

The storm.

The wailing of mechanical beeping and shrill alarms accompanied Jensen's attempts to sit up. 

Bad mistake. Bad. Bad. Bad.

"Jensen?" Jared's voice filtered through the noise and pain. "Help! We need help in here!"

More beeping.

"Jensen? Can you hear me? Try to take it easy, okay? Be easy. Jensen are you okay? Jensen?" Jared took his hand. 

Something was happening all around him, but hearing Jared ask him questions continuously, while mildly annoying, was a balm for his soul. No wonder Jared was his boyfriend. He was suddenly tired so he figured he'd catch a few zzzs before pulling another stunt like that one. 

~~*~~*~~

Jensen tried to open his eyes, because he remembered that attempting to sit up was a terrible idea. He wasn't going to do that again. Like, ever. He'd start slow.

It was quiet again, with soft sounds, soft smells and Jared's right hand in his left. It sounded like Jared was snoring. 

Jensen tried and tried until he was successful at getting one eye to open. He wasn't sure what he was seeing but it didn't look good.

"Hey, hey Jensen. Can you hear me now?"

Jensen swallowed twice before attempting a sound. "Ver…n?"

Jared aimed a bendy straw at Jensen's mouth and he sipped. Jared whispered softly, "How about now? Can you hear me now?"

Jensen nodded and mouthed a word. Jared brought his ear down close. 

"Verizon." Jensen nodded again. "Can you hear me, now?" Boy, his voice sounded awful and felt even worse. 

To Jensen's utter horror, Jared broke into a million weeping pieces. 

"You _promised_ , Jensen. You promised. _I will if you will_ you said. Well I did and you didn't. When Alaina called me into her office to ream me out over the live stream hijacking, I told her I wasn't going in, and that if I were her, I'd get to the console room immediately."

Jensen blinked twice.

"You bet your ass I did, and, no, she didn't like it, but she came. It was a good thing, too, because one of the station's landscaped Magnolia trees exploded through her window and impaled itself on her desk chair. Glass was fucking everywhere. And do you know why I didn't get hurt? Do you know why? I didn't get hurt _because I stuck to the dea_ l. I didn't go into her office where there were _windows_."

Jensen sighed a prayer of deep thanks. He began shaking, holding tighter to Jared's hand.

Jared dropped his head. "You didn't stick to the deal and we almost lost you." Jared glanced at Jensen, "In fact, we did sort of lose you. If DJ hadn't slipped Scout's GPS into your pocket, we might have found you much later than we did."

Jensen cocked his head to the left. 

"Oh," Jared said. "After Scout got lost the last time, DJ bought a GPS locator for him to wear on his collar. DJ put it in your back pocket before he, Scout and Felicia went to safety in your _ground floor_ bathtub."

Jensen knitted his eyebrows. 

"Yeah, they're fine. Covered in goose down, but waiting downstairs to hear how you're doing, like the rest of the country. Do you remember us finding you?"

Jensen shook his head, no, then tested his vocal cords. "How bad?" There, that wasn't so hard. 

"Lots of property damage, several low-lying areas got hit with flash flooding, and a small tornado touched down in Gulf Beach Park. Some people got hurt, but no deaths. Not one." His eyes got wet. "Almost one, Jensen. Almost you. Why didn't you move to safety? Why?" Jared's eyes were more than wet, now.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." When did it take so much energy to say three words? He started to lose the battle with consciousness. "Jay?"

"Rest now. I'll let people know you're awake, and then I'll be back. I'll be right back."

Jensen though about nodding, but lost the thought as he drifted away.

  


True to his word, Jared was back at his bedside, holding his hand. Jensen felt bold so he squeezed Jared's hand. Jared jerked up.

"Hey, how're doing?" Jared aimed the bendy straw again.

Jensen sucked down a few mouthfuls of cool water and took a deep breath.

"What happened to me?" he squeaked.

"You...you got blown out of your house and landed in the back yard." Jared's hands shook so hard he had to put down the bendy straw. "You were buried under rubble, so we had to key in Scout's GPS code to find you."

Jensen's eyes widened in shock. 

"Am I okay?"

"No."

_"No?"_ The beeping started up in earnest and Jensen had trouble catching his breath.

"Hold on, hold on. You're going to be okay. You're just not okay right now." Jared held and squeezed Jensen's hand. "Here, breathe with me. In and out. In and out."

"What's?" In and out, in and out. "What's not okay about me?" 

"Easy. Slow and easy." Jared smoothed Jensen's hair away from his face. He stroked his cheek and kissed his hair. Jensen had to admit that it was a good way of calming him down.

"Jensen, when they found you…"

"So, how's Florida's favorite weatherman? I'm Doctor Brown, one of your orthopedic surgeons, we haven't been formally introduced, but I know _you_ pretty well." Doctor Brown came in with a laptop on wheels and was currently pulling up what appeared to be Jensen's medical information. 

Jensen turned to Jared and mouthed, "Doc Brown?"

"Yeah," Jared whispered and then stood. "He's the one who pinned you back together."

"One of the surgeons. You've had quite a team working on you, son. Dr. Whovian and I have been the main two tag-teaming you." Doc Brown smiled kindly and sat in Jared's chair, at eye level with Jensen. "First, you're a very lucky man. You sustained impact injuries from a defenestration from the second story and impact injuries caused by falling and blowing debris."

Jensen was squinting.

"You got blown out of a window from your top floor, landed in your yard and stuff hit you while you were falling and stuff fell on top of you after you landed," Doc Brown clarified. 

Jensen felt Jared's hand on his shoulder on the other side of the bed. 

"Your pelvis is fractured, as is your left ankle. Your right femur—that's your thigh bone—is also fractured and your right knee was dislocated. Now, let's see," Doc Brown clicked through the reports in front of him. "Your right elbow needed surgical realignment, and your right wrist, and three of the four fingers on your right hand were broken. You took a lot of damage on that right side. You have three cracked ribs, also on the right, and a concussion resulting in a mild closed head injury. Internal damage was done to your spleen and right lung, and you sustained a mean case of road rash," he looked up. "That's going to hurt. We surgically reduced the femur fracture and used pins and rods so it would heal properly. We set the bones in your ankle and wrist and fingers. We had to surgically realign the right elbow and braced your right knee, but you'll need surgery on that in the next couple of weeks. Your pelvis and ribs will heal on their own."

Jensen kept with the in and out, in and out, as much as he could. "Wow," he panted. "I'm a mess."

"There is good news, though," the doctor said, gently. "There was no damage to your spine, no lasting effects from the head injury are expected, although you may never remember the actual event. All of the internal injuries are expected to heal without complications. As a bonus, not a mark on your face. Twelve stitches at the hairline, but even those will be invisible with time."

"Will I walk again?"

"Yes. It's going to take time and work, but we expect you to be back on both feet again. Mr. Ackles, you were badly hurt, but you're young and strong, and have friends and support. No one can predict your prognosis with certainty, but we expect all positive outcomes."

"Good, I think. Thank you." Jensen swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"How's the pain?"

"Not bad."

"Until he tried to sit up," Jared interjected.

Jensen attempted a glare at Jared, but Jared looked so battered that he couldn't hold it for long.

"Be honest about the pain. We can and should control it for you. Please let the nurses know when you need relief. I'll give you something in your IV now and I'll be checking on you later this evening."

"Thank you, doctor," said Jensen.

"Thanks, doc," said Jared as the doctor left the room and shut the door.

"The way I look at it, I can still forecast the weather. In fact, I might be able to predict cold fronts just with my bones alone." He smiled feebly at Jared.

"My house didn't get hit hard. I'm over in Parkbridge, and we didn't get a full-on blast. I'd like it if you came home with me after your stay in rehab. I have wide doorways and wide hallways big enough for your temporary wheelchair. I have that big guest bedroom on the ground floor with an attached bathroom that we could modify."

"Oh," Jensen's face fell. "The guest bedroom, huh?"

Jared finally shot Jensen his winning smile. "The guest bedroom that we can modify into a master bedroom."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Jensen was hoping Jared wanted to do this.

"Of course, I do. After all, there's somethings I haven't told you yet."

"No more surprises. I don't think I can take any more surprises."

"Sorry, but you have to know that when Misha ran the live feed through the major NBC networks to the entire country, you became America's New Darling."

"Please say that's not true."

"Well, that's what I call you."

"Please don't."

"All of America heard you warning the city about the derecho. Live. You were live when you asked about my safety. That's how I was able to be your significant other and allowed to be here with you right now. Can we start using the term "boyfriend"?"

"Yes we can, boyfriend."

"You were live on the air the whole time and that meant everybody heard when you…" Jared stopped and caught his breath. "You were live when the storm got you."

Jensen squeezed Jared's wrist with his unbroken hand.

"You generated a lot of public concern when it took some time to get you out. I warn you now, because pretty soon this whole hospital will be filled with Get Well Soon balloons, flowers, candy and toys. Felicia's been fielding all your calls."

"How long _did_ it take to find me?"

"Thanks to Scout and DJ we knew right away where you were buried. Getting you out took a little doing, especially since the storms were still winding down. The first responders had to shore up the debris before is safe to move you. Most of your rescue was on the local air, live, with the WBB news crew."

"Crap." A floaty, calm feeling quietly overcame Jensen. _Am I on a cloud?_

"No, you're not on a cloud. Take a look here." Jared opened the top three buttons of his shirt. "Saint Medardus. I'm wearing him and thanking him for you."

He reached over and stroked the medal Jared held, and gave him a drooly smile.

Jared must have known that the drugs were hitting so he added quickly, "When you wake up, I have one more piece of news for you, and I'm sure you're going to like it. "

"Huh? Wha's'zit?" 

"I'll tell you later, and, if you're good, and if they let me, I'll sneak you in a salad from _Bread Zeppelin_. Go to sleep." 

A soft touch at his hairline, a soft kiss at his temple and Jensen was out for the count.

  


Four Months Later

"The great state of Florida has asked me to join its citizens in recognizing Jensen Ackles for his heroic actions and outstanding bravery, disregarding imminent risk to his own life, to issue warnings to keep safe the residents of Coconut Bay and beyond, during a destructive derecho storm. Risking, and, in fact, sustaining serious bodily injury to himself, Jensen acted to keep the citizens of his hometown informed as to the progression and track of the storms. Mr. Ackles remained live, on the air, reporting while catastrophic storms struck his listening area. He warned the residents of the impending dangers and appropriate methods of when and how to seek cover and avoid injury. While there was extensive property damage and many personal injuries, there were no deaths related to this weather event. We believe we owe that to Jensen Ackles's exceptional weather coverage, as well as to his dedication and courage in reporting it. 

"It is with great pleasure and great thanks and humility that I am allowed to honor Jensen with the State of Florida Civilian Medal of Valor."

The audience rose from their seats, clapping loudly as Jared helped Jensen stand, handing him his cane for the slow walk up the steps to the podium. 

Jensen's cheeks felt red and his eyes were misty as he stood and surveyed the auditorium and the guests who were standing in front of him. He turned to the speaker who was handing him the boxed medal of civilian valor. It was a silver star with the engraved letter V and Great Seal of the State of Florida, In God We Trust in the middle.

"Thank-you, Mr. Norcross, for this unexpected and wholly appreciated honor. However, I feel I need to set the record straight. It wasn't just me who warned the town. I could not have broadcasted to the listeners if it hadn't been for my production staff, the PMC&O tech team and the WBB network studio staff. Oh," Jensen pointed out into the audience, "and Big Jim Beaver."

He shifted his weight to the left to off his still sore right side. He really could tell the weather with his bones.

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Bryan. You will _never_ know how much this means to me."

Jensen took the box, looked inside and then held it up for them all to see. 

The crowd went wild with joyful clapping and cheers. Alaina, Jim and the WBB crew was off to the left, PMC&Osric were off to the right, and Felicia, DJ, Jared and Scout were front and center. Jensen had left his little shelter mutt, Meddie, short for Medardus, at home. She was probably chewing up the couch—again. 

Jared helped Jensen get situated comfortably in his chair to watch the other honorees receive their accolades in this Honor's Awards Ceremony.

He leaned over to Jared and whispered, "So, where to after this?"

"How about Chinese? I'm thinking Fu King Chinese or maybe Soon Fatt? Big Wong? Man Ho? Or Vietnamese? Pho King Good? TemptAsian?"

"All good choices."

The crowd stood applauding for Sarah O'Malley, the Middle School teacher who was driving home during Jensen's derecho. She convinced three of her students, who were playing in the wind storm, to get into her car for safety where she drove into a low ditch. Power lines came down almost immediately where they had been standing. The wind blew harmlessly over the top of her Honda Pilot.

"Because of Jensen Ackles's reporting, I was able to save three young lives plus my own. Thank you, Jensen."

The crowd turned from applauding Sarah to applauding Jensen in the front row. Two young men and one young lady, the teenagers, walked over to Jensen. 

The girl held out a pink rose. "A pink rose signifies admiration and appreciation. Mr. Ackles, thank you for saving our lives."

Jensen swallowed. Overcome and unable to speak, he turned his wide, wet eyes to Jared. 

Jared took the rose for Jensen and said, "Mr. Ackles says it was his honor. Thank _you_." 

Jensen clamped his jaw shut and nodded vigorously to the kids.

Each boy said 'thank you' before returning to their seats.

Jensen sniffed and practiced breathing. If there was ever any question as to whether the pain he'd experienced since taking a two-story fall was worth it, it was answered in the form of one pink rose.

Jared stroked his shoulder, took his hand and asked, "So, Man Ho?"

Jensen snorted.

It was gross.

  


**Epilogue**

"I'm going to be old by the time I finish." Jensen whined, as he packed another suitcase. He only needed two. All his worldly possessions, except for his car, which he couldn't even drive for several months, were either lost or ruined by the storms. Now, he had two suitcases full of clothes and that was about it. He'd been living with Jared since the accident and didn't need anything but clothes.

"You're going to be old anyway, you might as well be an old meteorologist." Jared was packing his house up, so it was a lot more work for him. "Shit, Jensen, you're kind of old now, so what difference will it make?"

"Well, that's just nice. I'm already old? What difference will it make? Well, that's just nice."

Jared sighed, swung his arm around Jensen, aimed his lips at his and effectively shut him up. 

After several minutes of that, Jensen breathed and sighed. "Well—that's just _nice_."

"Come on, admit it, you're excited about starting our new adventure." Jared marked a box: KTCHEN

"I am." Jensen sat on the stair. He was still healing. Even after several months his right knee and right elbow still didn't bend easily. But Jared had been the best nurse ever. Even so, he probably wasn't ever going to be hiking, rock climbing or snowboarding, but he never did those before, so it was more or less okay. 

Jared could work remotely, so moving to Greenville, North Carolina for a few years wouldn't be too hard on him. Then they'd planned on moving back to Florida so Jensen could work on his doctorate in Atmospheric Sciences and Meteorology at Florida State University. 

Jensen had said to Jared. "I know I probably could have stayed in Florida for the whole nine yards of Atmospheric Sciences, but I'd read about East Carolina University when I was thirteen and I always wanted to go there."

"So, we'll go there," Jared had said. And that was that.

There was a gleam in Jared's eye and a spring to his step as he packed up his house. Jensen didn't remember the last time he saw Jared wearing his beanie. 

He took it as a personal accomplishment. 

Jared would be renting his house out. Jensen had insurance money and savings, and they'd be renting a house in Greenville. It was scary, but what a pleasure it was to retire Numbers One through Twenty. 

"So," Jensen scratched the floor with the toe of his shoe. "No regrets?"

Jared looked up from his packing. "Hmm, do I have any regrets?" He sat and placed his hand up to his chin. "You mean outside of that time you didn't keep your promise and almost died?"

Jensen's ears burned red. He kept scratching the floor. "Yeah, outside of that."

"Let me think." Jared paused so long that Jensen got nervous and looked up.

"Nope, not a one." Jared unloaded his 1000-watt, full double-dimpled smile with his eyebrows up and his front teeth showing.

And dear God, it was beautiful.

~~*~~*~~fin~~*~~*~~

Cue [Starship: We Built This City](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1b8AhIsSYQ)

~~*~~*~~

**Author's Note:**

> Sincerest thanks to my artist for the hard work and winning smile! The art master post can be found [ HERE on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234633)
> 
> ~~*~~*~~  
> And for any of you Hurt!Jensen/Caring!Jared fans out there, I've already started a timestamp chronicling Jensen's rescue and recovery. So far, it's a little more serious than I'd planned, but I'm sure it will lighten up. Stay tuned. 
> 
> Additional notes:
> 
> Unfortunately, I don't think there really is a **State of Florida Civilian Medal of Valor**.
> 
> However, [ Chad's Margaritaville hat](https://www.partycity.com/margaritaville-parrot-hat-780449.html?gclid=Cj0KCQjw9JzoBRDjARIsAGcdIDWE2WGuP_O9uMN0GaP6Uezppv42F9x1U2FVQrBQLXOqIZEgfGcOUgAaAsR9EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds&extcmp=pla%7CGoogle) exists 
> 
> [ Kate Beckinsale in costume](https://www.thesun.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/nintchdbpict000284781572.jpg?w=960)
> 
> Not Blue Steel but [ Magnum](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ao31lQuYPjE) elicited the "Dear God, it's beautiful."
> 
> I lived in Clearwater and Tampa, Florida and the local weatherman used to say JAPDIP after almost every forecast.
> 
>  
> 
> ****
> 
>  
> 
> **Weather Info and Links**  
> 
> 
> Yes, derecho storms can have windspeeds this intense. [Derecho information from NOAA ](https://www.spc.noaa.gov/misc/AbtDerechos/derechofacts.htm#types)
> 
> I was in the middle of a Derecho a few years back, and they are fast, furious, dark, even in the daytime, and tornado scary.
> 
>  [ Flash Flood Safety Information ](https://www.redcross.org/about-us/news-and-events/news/2018/flash-flooding---how-to-stay-safe.html)
> 
>  [ Tornado Safety Tips](https://eo.ucar.edu/kids/dangerwx/tornado5.htm)
> 
>  [NOAA Main Site](https://www.noaa.gov/)
> 
>  [High Resolution Rapid Refresh (HRRR)](https://rapidrefresh.noaa.gov/hrrr/)
> 
>  [ National Weather Service (NWS) ](https://www.weather.gov/)
> 
>  [North American Mesoscale Forecast System (NAM) ](https://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/data-access/model-data/model-datasets/north-american-mesoscale-forecast-system-nam)
> 
>  [ National Center for Environmental Prediction ](https://www.ncep.noaa.gov/)  
> [ Aviation Weather Center](https://www.aviationweather.gov/)
> 
>  [ Hurricane Harvey](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Harvey)
> 
>  YouTube: [Bryan Norcross recalls Hurricane Andrew 25 Years Later](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkXDREaXdlU).
> 
>  [ Rare Red Lightning Sprites](https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/scientists-capture-rare-photographs-of-red-lightning-544670/)
> 
>  [ Sundogs](https://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-5227053/NASA-reveals-sun-angel-appeared-Sweden.html)
> 
>  [ Because Sundogs are cool](https://www.iweathernet.com/educational/a-look-into-the-brilliant-displays-of-atmospheric-optics)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~


End file.
